The Hunt
by paperspiral
Summary: Sabretooth/OC. Creed comes home after being prisoner to the X-Men. While my Victor/Emma stories don't proceed on a timeline, if you want to read them in written order this is story 6.
1. Chapter 1

**Sabretooth and Birdy belong to Marvel, the rest are mine.**

**Comment and constructive criticism welcome.**

It had been nearly three years. Creed stood in front of his house in Vancouver, the gate tightly locked up and the alarm armed. It took him several minutes to remember his security code after all the mind-fucks he had been through with the X-Men and then again with X-Factor.

The security system buzzed annoyingly at him as his first attempt at disarming it failed. Creed rearranged some numbers and smiled briefly as the gates slowly whirred to life, permitting him entrance.

The grounds were overrun with dead leaves and tall, dead grass. The gate's walls had been spray painted and it seemed that a few of his windows were broken where rocks had been pitched through. At least the ones that weren't shot down by his security system. It was outdated now anyway.

His front door was unlocked and he entered into the dark. The light switches still worked, his electricity bill was still being paid, probably an automatic withdrawal from some bank account set up by Birdy at some point.

Birdy.

A fine layer of dust had settled on everything, including a newspaper clipping laid out on the entrance table, waiting for him. It had yellowed sitting out in front of the entrance windows for so long. He shook it and blew the dust away to find her faded blue eyes staring at him from an obituary. They had printed it in colour. He had never seen Birdy the way she appeared in the photo. She seemed...happy.

He put the paper down again and for the sake of hearing something, called out for his wife. He heard the despair in his own voice echo through the empty hallways. A nest of birds raised protest from the top of a shelf in the den at the disturbance. He tried again, this time louder, bellowing at the top of his lungs.

He hadn't been this truly alone since escaping Weapon X decades ago, lost in the wilderness in the dead of an ungodly winter, half out of his mind in confusion and trying to figure out who he was and why he was covered in blood. After weeks Emma had found him. She had been bundled up like an abominable snowman and following reports of slaughtered, half-eaten animals across the prairies. He was naked and cold and screaming up into the sky like a lunatic.

All of her energy had been spent in the last few days of trudging through the snow on no more than beef jerky, so when she had finally found him in such a state, she fell back into the snow and laughed. She laughed until she cried. She cried until she was wailing his name for him to come to her because she could no longer move from where she had fallen. Obediently he approached her and curled around her, deep in the snow, and for the first time in what seemed like his whole existence, he cried too.

Since then he had never been alone. Not like this. Birdy had always been around, if not Emma. Or if they were gone, or he on business, there was always the certainty that someone would return to keep him company. Such a solitary man and yet never alone. The last two years he had been continuously flanked by one hero or another. He hadn't even been able to take a shit alone.

He wasn't sure what he had expected, if Birdy had found out about Graydon, chances were very likely she had told Emma in some form or another. Not only another affair, but a full grown son out of his infidelity, something she had not been able to give him. A feat that he constantly reminded her was a failing of hers as a wife and as a woman. The only reason it hadn't happened sooner, he supposed, was that the women he slept with tended to end up dead once he was done with their bodies.

Emma had been different to him, but why hadn't he treated her as such? Unable to alleviate the pain growing in his chest, he slumped on to the stairs and let out the wail of a wounded animal. The birds replied angrily.


	2. Chapter 2

**Sabretooth and Birdy belong to Marvel, the rest are mine.**

**Comment and constructive criticism welcome.**

It was a blessing that he still had hot water. The unused taps groaned under the strain of bringing him water to the shower head of the bedroom's bath. Creed washed the grime away, the dust that had managed to cling to him as he walked the empty hallways and rooms of his home looking for clues as to where his wife had fled.

His hair was cut short again, just as she liked it. He ran his fingers back and forth through it then let the spray of water hit his face. The shower ended and he pulled the curtain back to find a fluffy pink towel sitting, waiting for him on the counter. He had not put it there and it was not covered in dust. In fact, it smelled fresh out of the laundry.

Creed threw the bathroom door open and stalked, dripping, through his bedroom, calling out for Emma. There was no one in the house with him. Confused, he made his way back to the bathroom and picked up the towel, rubbing his face into it. Out of the bathroom again, he found pyjamas sitting it the closet where he had last left them. Something stirred the dust behind him out of the corner of his eye. The gears of his mind worked quickly, playing through scenarios where this was all possible. There were no other scents in the house other than his own. No one was with him.

_Shapeshifter__?_

Those pests didn't have scents. But did he really expect one to be posing as a piece of furniture in order to lay all these comforts out for him? Creed left the bedroom and went down to the kitchen, a place where most of his life previously had taken place. No cookies laid out waiting for him here. Instead he found forty dollars cash sitting out. He only had time for a puzzled look before the front door chime announced someone at his front door. He had forgotten to lock the gates back up.

A young kid gave him a half-hearted smile as he opened the door. "That'll be thiry-five fifteen, please." He was opening a heat-pack and pulling out two fresh pizzas. Creed handed over the money wordlessly and took the food offered, shutting the door behind him.

"Emma?"

Like the last few hours, he was met with silence.

ooooo

He had managed to sleep like the dead even though every fibre of his being screamed that something was amiss. One of the pizzas had been 'vegetarian' and while he otherwise wouldn't have touched it, his stomach gnawed in hunger after finishing the first one that had been covered in pepperoni and bacon. It sat heavily in his stomach as he woke up to the sun's rays.

He walked through the house a third time since returning home, nothing new standing out to him this time as he carried a cup of coffee with him. He made a mental note to never nag Emma about her coffee making abilities again as he choked down his own attempt. He suspected most of last night was some grief sticken hallucination since he awoke, once again covered in dust and there was no coffee already waiting for him downstairs.

Creed went back to the office he had shared with both Birdy and Emma at some point, and started up the latter's computer. It was outdated along with the security system now and was slow upon starting. The internet had been shut off a long time ago. He picked up the cordless phone on the desk and while there was a dial tone, there was no service. He pitched the phone down over the desk and started clicking through the folders on her desktop.

He found her photos and started to flip through them. The first few were from their trip to London together as an actually vacation, then there were photos from his birthday a few years back. She had made him wear the birthday hat and he scowled at the camera. It made him laugh now. There were a few pictures of the boys they had taken in to foster care. Little Alex smiled happily showing the picture taker the stuffed rabbit he had been given for Christmas that year. Creed had not kept the promise to visit him, the boy must be in his mid to late teens by now at least.

He found the picture of Birdy that had been used for her obituary. It was from a series when she and Emma had flown to Hawaii together on one of those all-inclusive trips. No wonder she looked so happy, he hadn't been there, harassing her for five whole days by that point.

The pictures went on slowly as the harddrive and software were clunky and old. Creed stopped when he encountered a picture of a man he found familiar.

He had just found his first clue.

ooooo

Somewhere deep within him, he had found a reserve of patience not normally associated with Sabretooth. He made time to do some laundry so he would be able to dress in clean clothes for the trip he suspected he might be taking, and then found a half-full gas can in the garage and added it to the Mercedes. Despite the chaos he had left his house in his last night there, while being kidnapped, everything was back in place, a new motorcycle probably walled up where the old one had been stored and everything.

The car hummed to life as though it had been in use that morning, and he backed out of the drive into the street. This time he made sure to lock the doors behind him and arm the security system.

The university was swarming with students, none of them knowing which way to go, unable to tell their heads from their asses. Creed pushed through gaggles of them on his way to the chaplain's office where he last found Gavin, his wife's secret godson.

They had not met on good terms, which was evidenced by the slack-jawed stare Gavin gave him as he hung up the phone slowly on the person on the other end when Creed swung open the door against protest from the secretary.

"Get the hell out of my office." Said the priest.

"Is that any way to talk to a guy?" Creed sat heavily in the seat across the desk and lifted his boots up on top of a pile of free bibles.

"Mr. Creed..."

"Cut th' crap, where's my wife?"

"She's missing?" Finally a note of concern and compassion entered the man's voice.

"Yeah, for like, a while now. Where th' hell've you been?" Creed replied sarcastically, enjoying toying with the man of cloth.

"Weren't you missing for a while?" Gavin furrowed his brow in confusion and pointed his finger to Creed.

"Enough!" He sat up and pounded on the desk. "Where's my wife?"

"I can't help you." Gavin's voice was cut off as Creed grabbed him by the throat and slammed him down on his own desk.

"Do I sound like I'm gonna ask twice?" His voice hissed through his bared teeth into the priest's ear.

"I haven't spoken to Emma since the funeral! I think she said she was going to visit Birdy's parents?" Creed released him and sat back in the chair as though nothing had happened. The secretary was on the phone to the campus police in a panic. Gavin tried to soothe her by raising a hand, but the other was rubbing his sore throat and the effect of comfort was lost.

"Birdy's parents are dead."

"Aunt I think it was." Gavin replied.

"Fuck, what's her name?" Creed couldn't even remember Birdy's _last_ name.

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Gavin shouted as security rushed up the stairs. "Now get out!"

"Thanks kid, you've been a great help." Creed spat as he got up and turned towards the two security officers flanking the doorframe. He snarled at them and knew that they wouldn't touch him.

ooooo

Though he wasn't going anywhere anymore, at least he had clean underwear for the next few days. Creed dropped the duffel back to the floor at the entrance to his home, dusk providing the only light. He made his way to the kitchen and was disappointed to find no magical dinner waiting for him. The fridge was bare and the cupboards empty save for a box of croutons and some salad dressing.

Drive thru it was.

The Mercedes made its second trip out on the town that day, but this time Creed pulled into a gas station to fill her up. Little gas guzzler that she was, it had been a birthday gift to Birdy. _Fuck_, he thought, _I'm driving her car._ The consumate asshole that he was, he got over the thought quickly and went in to pay for the gas.

_McClaren? McCarthy? McMasters? It started with an 'M'. _Creed rubbed his forehead trying to remember his former assistant's last name while inching slowly through the line to the take out window. _Maybe it didn't._

They took his credit card at the first window, then he had to wait in line for the second window. He could feel a headache burrowing in his temple. He finally made it to the second window and was handed a large paper bag with grease stains already beginning to form. He grabbed the milkshake he had ordered to go with his burgers and got the hell out of the parking lot, heading for home.

He made sure to leave the entrance light on this time so he wouldn't feel so lonely. He slammed the bag down on the entrance table and sucked on the milkshake while kicking off his boots. He would eat in the kitchen.

Emptying the bag on the counter, he counted out five burgers, two large fries, and randomly, a salad he did not order. Creed angrily checked the bill but found he hadn't been charged for it. Birdy's ghost was tormenting him for driving her car around all day, he supposed.

He suddenly kicked back the stool he was sitting on in front of the kitchen island and ran back out into the hallway. Birdy's obituary still sat where he had left it.

"Bennett?" Creed had been way off. He read through the article until he reached the last paragraph. "Birdy is survived by her loving family Victor Creed, Emma Creed, and Josephine Arnott."

A great sigh escaped his lips and his hands fell to his sides. "Birdy," he said to the emptiness, "I miss ya."


	3. Chapter 3

**Sabretooth and others belong to Marvel, the rest are mine.**

**Comment and constructive criticism welcome.**

His second night home was not as restful as the first. Dust crawled up his nose landing him in a sneezing fit which left his eyes bloodshot and his throat raw. With a great, frustrated roar, Creed stripped himself and the bed of linen and crashed onto the bare mattress as the clock read 2:17am. He was wide awake.

Was Emma dead? Had she run out on him? Did she shack up with another man? She sure as hell hadn't put any effort into looking for him. That deceptive bitch probably celebrated when she realised she was free of him finally. Creed flipped on to his back and stared at the ceiling with a scowl on his face and his jaw clenched.

By morning he had created an elaborate scenario where Emma had helped coordinate his kidnapping after finding out about his illegitimate son, Graydon, to spite him, drained all of his bank accounts, then flew overseas to begin a new life with some Russian millionaire playboy who was fond of vodka and diamonds.

He would have to go to the bank and see how bad the damage was to his personal accounts. Creed rolled up to sitting on the edge of the mattress and scratched his ass with light claw strokes. Dust floated throughout the room in the morning rays of sunlight that were streaming through the bamboo slits that served as window shades. Creed gave another giant sneeze then headed for the shower.

Fucking Graydon. Fucking Mystique. Fucking up his fucking life. Now his wife was fucking some Russian all because he couldn't keep his own fucking dick in his pants. He rubbed shampoo into his scalp vehemently, still not ready to take on the responsibility of his own actions. His sleep-deprived thoughts bounced around angrily in his head.

Why Leni? What had made him shack up with her in the first place? _Because she was dangerous _- he replied to himself. Emma was always too safe, too placating, too easy, too convenient.

_But she loves you and no one else will. _Fucking Birdy was still in his head.

Why was his kid such a psycho? Did Graydon _hurt _Emma? Would Graydon have killed Emma?

_Yes. _

Creed would have been notified, there were procedures when upstanding citizens died. Someone would have told him. Someone would have known how to reach him. Someone would have told him...right?

He had to get to the bank.

oooo

Creed absently wiped dust off of his suit pant leg while he waited in the bank manager's office. He thought he had gotten all of the lint off, but his house was a giant collection of dust and it was inevitable that a freshly lint rolled black suit would not stay clean for long. His healing factor had finished taking care of his sleep deprivation symptoms and his mind had stopped rattling around like a cranky old man. He still wasn't sure where he came up with the idea that Emma had run off with some Russian.

The bank manager, his desk plate said Rick Bowing, rushed in and flashed Creed a stressed, brief smile. The man was tall and lean, wispy. He looked uncomfortable behind his own desk but sat there nonetheless.

"Sorry for the wait, Mr. Creed. How can I help you today?" There was that brief, stressed smile again.

Victor threw his bank card on the desk and said, "I've been _gone _for th' last three years an' I wanna know all of the activity of my accounts for that time period."

Rick nodded with a depressed look flickering over his face, knowing this would eat up a lot of his morning and he had other work to attend to. His fingers danced over the ergonomic keyboard with Creed's card propped up against a computer speaker.

"It looks like your savings account has only accrued interest over the last three years, no withdrawals or deposits as you are the only signing authority on the account...your checking account has regular withdrawals scheduled to creditors...and your joint account with your wife has been accessed infrequently over the last year..." Rick continued to scroll and type, talking mostly to the computer.

"Can you print out the statements for me?" Creed sharpened his claws against one another absently, noting that the manager had not said _late_ wife, a good sign.

"Of course, if you don't mind waiting a short while. Is there anything else I can do for you today?" Rick seemed relieved to have gotten off so quickly with such a simple request.

"Just start with th' joint account." He grunted.

oooo

Whether he liked it or not, Creed had taken over Rick's office and was pouring over the print outs of his bank account. With a yellow highlighter, he marked off a series of transfers from his account to another. It was just a long string of numbers that made no sense to him but the amounts where significant enough to check into.

Rick popped in to see how things were going, hiding his irritation very well, considering Creed's income and the profit that he made the bank with his business. Victor handed him a page with yellow highlighting and told the manager to look up the account and tell him what it was.

"Unfortunately that information is confidential..." Rick took the paper delicately.

"I wanna know who I'm givin' my hard earned money to, get me that information!" Creed barked and turning back to the handful of pages left to sort through. The withdrawals, he noticed, were regular in that they happened every four months - August, December, and April. This didn't tell him anything.

Rick reappeared at the door. "All I can tell you is the account belongs to someone with the last name Kinn and it's been open for the last three and a half years."

"I don't know no Kinns. Gimme an address." He stood and grabbed the pile of papers, walked over to the little machine by the door and shredded them.

"I legally can't give you that information." The manager shook his head.

Instead of arguing, Creed grabbed the man by the neck and pulled him in close. The man was at least four inches taller than him but Creed had at least 150lbs on him and a sharp set of teeth. "Address."

"I can't give you that, " Rick breathed, "but maybe if you head three blocks south and turn right, you might find some information at the diner."

Victor narrowed his eyes and bared his fangs, he was not in the mood for stupid games. He thanked the man by releasing him and plucked the last page of his search out of his hands on his way out of the bank.

Birdy's car was still waiting for him in the parking lot and he revved the engine while his stomach growled. He had skipped breakfast anyway, he might as well follow the the man's suggestion.

The car purred into the deserted parking lot of the diner and Creed made sure to snap his jacket as he got out. It was midday and the restaurant was dead. A little bell chimed overhead as he opened the door. A blond teenager sat in one of the booths with a physics textbook propped up against his book bag on the table and a plate of fries to his left.

Another blond, slightly older, was scrubbing the counter down, grease stains on his white apron and some tattoos peaking out from under the sleeves of his gray t-shirt. Both looked up at him in his suit. The cook made a gesture and said, "where ever ya like" before moving to the swinging door to the back and barking, "Lydia, customer!"

The younger boy was still staring at him, munching on a cold french fry slowly. Creed growled at him, not moving from the door.

"Monster?" The boy asked quietly.


	4. Chapter 4

**Sabretooth and others belong to Marvel, the rest are mine.**

**Comment and constructive criticism welcome.**

It had been 17 years ago that three little boys had come to stay with the Creeds for less than a month, and the then three year old still remembered him.

Alex's blue eyes were wide and an unsure smile was blooming on his face. He didn't look twenty, he looked sixteen and lost in the too big clothes he wore. His flannel shirt pooled around him, hiding his body and his shaggy blond hair made him look homeless.

"Get back t' studyin'." Ordered the cook as he grabbed a plastic menu and walked around the counter.

"Freddy, it's Mister Creed." Alex pointed, his happy grin official. The cook stopped and gave Creed a glare, that obstinate look still plastered on his face from when he was seven. Freddy had gained height and muscle, but he was still an angry child inside.

"Hey." Was all the kid said and walked down the line of booths to seat his customer.

"No, come sit here with me." Alex moved his bag down to his seat and shut the textbook. Creed slowly walked over and sat heavily across from him. Freddy slapped a menu in front of them and stomped off.

"Weren't there three of you?" Creed clasped his hands together, stretching his claws out, unsettled at what he had found in the diner.

"Gren's in class right now. He's going to be a lawyer." Alex pushed his plate of fries forward to share, but they were cold and half eaten and drenched in ketchup. "I'm going to be a cop." Creed looked the boy up and down before asking about Freddy. Alex shrugged while watching his older brother scrub the counters down yet again, trying to ignore them.

"Your last name Kinn?"

"Yeah, why? How come you haven't visited? Emma kept saying, 'next time, next time', but you never came."

"Where's Emma?" Creed negated, wondering how anyone was going to take the kid seriously when he still looked like a boy, asking incessant questions.

Freddy and Alex exchanged a look of confusion. Creed's stomach gurgled loudly in the silence. Freddy relaxed slightly and started to busy himself making something on the grill while Alex scratched his head. Victor noticed the boy's wrist as the shirt crept down several inches. Those clothes were deceptive because there was definitely the body of a man under them.

A plate with a burger and fries was pushed across the counter by Freddy to the strange feral man from his past. Creed grunted and stood to collect the food with a nod, returning to the booth. The first bite of lunch filled him with such warm that he had to close his eyes while he chewed. Once the hamburger was gone, he began his line of questioning again.

"Emma been givin' you guys money?" Creed pushed his plate towards the middle of the table to share his own fries this time.

"For school and stuff." Alex took a fry and wiped it in the ketchup from his own plate.

"So who's takin' care o' you?"

"We ain't eighteen anymore." Freddy replied, keeping distance and the counter between them.

"Freddy and I work, Gren goes to school. We get by."

"Yer parents? Yer adopted parents? Where are they? Why ain't they payin' fer 'school and stuff'?" Creed dipped a fry in the ketchup lightly. He wasn't given a response which was a response in itself. "So you been takin' money from Emma, a lady you haven't seen in ages?"

Freddy responded again. "We've seen Emma lots. Always sent us Christmas gifts, birthday cards, she'd come to watch me play football. Went to Dummy's school plays..." He pointed at his brother. "Where have _you_ been?"

Where _had _he been?

"Where's my wife?" Creed rubbed his eyes with a hand, tired of all the secrets she had kept from him over their lifetime together.

"New York." Alex popped the last of the fries into his mouth.

oooo

He was just fucking _in_ New York. Creed had driven straight from the diner to the airport and was now sitting on a plane after only an hour wait and a large debt on his active credit card. All he had on him was his wallet and the now wrinkled piece of paper with a part of his bank account statement from two years ago.

He slipped the five dollar headphones over his ears just to look like he was busy so the chatty grandmother sitting beside him wouldn't bother talking to him. Creed blankly stared at the statement, trying to review what he had garnered over the last three hours.

Emma had continued to see the kids after they had been transferred to a permanent home. The kids no longer lived with any parental figure and he assumed were only taking financial aid from his wife. Freddy with his attitude and Alex with his hiding in his clothes reeked of some serious abuse, and at least on Alex's part, possibly sexual abuse. Emma was supporting Gren through school...and one of them had an addiction problem.

His green eyes came back into focus on the paper in front of him. Among the transfers of thousands of dollars for school, there was also a hefty payment to a rehab centre that had blended in with the over priced university tuition. Creed's bet was Freddy, unless his wife was raising yet another set of kids that didn't belong to her.

"Your headset isn't plugged in." Said grandma from beside him.

"Huh?" Creed raised an irritated eyebrow.

She stopped knitting and pointed to the head phone jack and the dangling cord. "You're not plugged in."

Creed grabbed the end and jammed it into the hole and cringed against the loud volume, only to avoid her nannering at him any longer.


	5. Chapter 5

**Sabretooth and others belong to Marvel, the rest are mine.**

**Comment and constructive criticism welcome.**

Creed exchanged his money for America currency before hailing a cab and instructing the driver to head into the city and towards his apartment that he assumed he still owned. The weather was foggy and cool but the sun was miraculously still up. In hindsight, it had been a very long day and he had still a while to go.

The cab pulled up to the building, still the same as he remembered it, and Creed handed the cabbie his fare while tugging out his ring of keys, thankful that he had grabbed them on his way out that morning. The only reason why he had grabbed these keys was because it held all of the car keys on it as well as keys to all of his various safe houses. He didn't know how smart it was, but they were his set of emergency keys and he felt this qualified.

The apartment was lived in but empty. Emma's smell pervaded the rooms and Creed's neck muscles and shoulders unwound as her scent filtered through his nostrils and lightened his head like a drug. She was here, she was alive, she wasn't living with some Russian.

Strange smells hit him but he was far too focused on finding his wife to want to investigate. Instead of entering the apartment, he locked it back up and followed her floral trail back down the hallway and back to the elevators. The wait was killing him so Creed pushed open a door to his right and took the stairs all the way to ground level and walked out on to the street.

It was faint, mingled in with all the other smells of the city, but he was able to pick her out again. When it was safe, Creed darted across the street and pushed himself through the walking crowds of people on the sidewalk and into the little park. Taking in a giant breath he followed with his nose instead of his eyes.

He walked past an elderly couple holding hands and feeding pigeons on a bench, a cyclist, a little boy being walked by an old Golden Retriever, and two young mothers jogging with strollers side-by-side on the walking path.

Creed heard Emma's voice before he could see her. She was standing on the other side of a little bridge in the middle of the park with a mobile phone up to her ear and her back to him. She sounded strong and firm, and from his point of view, the rest of her looked strong and firm. Emma clicked the phone off, pulled up the thick knit scarf around her neck and turned around to find him standing directly behind her, looking wild-eyed.

"Victor!" She gasped in surprise.

"Emma." He replied.

"Where have you been?" Her face turned cross.

"Lookin' fer you!" Creed growled back irritably.

"That's not what I meant." Emma slipped the cell phone into her jacket pocket and pulled her knitted mittens on.

"I was..." Creed rubbed his tongue along a fang, looking for the right word. "Incarcerated for a long while. You look good. Why ain't you at home?" The question tumbled out unexpectedly anxious.

"That mansion is too big for just one person. I cleaned up your mess and moved out here. I needed a break, a fresh start." Emma chewed her lips and swallowed, raising her chin just slightly to dare him to say anything contrary. "You have a son."

"I didn't know about him, I really didn't. He didn't hurt you, did he?" Finally remembering that he had every right to touch her, Creed lifted a finger and dragged a claw lightly down her cheek affectionately.

Emma stared at him angrily in response. Then she repeated, "You have a son."

The Golden Retriever was meandering over the bridge with the little boy in tow, knocking into both of them and continuing on his way without so much as an 'excuse me'.

"His name's Graydon. He's some politician with a stick up his ass about mutants." Creed tried to explain and realised despite his threat to keep an eye on the boy who had killed his assistant, he really didn't know very much about his own flesh and blood. "Has mommy issues."

Emma didn't respond to this.

The dog, finished with his walk, came and sat down beside Emma's leg and the little boy with light brown hair and big green eyes came up and pressed his face into the back of her leg, peering around her up at him.

Then it occurred to Creed that they were talking about two different people.

Emma rested a hand on the little boy's head.

oooo

Back in the apartment, Emma knocked on a neighbour's door and handed over the mutt to an elderly lady who seemed incapable of walking the dog herself anymore. The little boy waved goodbye and ran up to the apartment door, waiting for his parents to catch up. Emma had said very little.

Not knowing where to begin, Creed sank into his couch and watched as she hung up their jackets and put their boots away. The boy ran over to the chair, grabbed a stuffed hippopotamus, then ran up to the couch to sit beside him.

"Collier, do you know who this is?" Emma asked softly, making her way to the kitchen to start the kettle.

"It's papa." The boy grinned into his animal, pressing his warm body against Creed's. Victor could only stare.

"Are you going to say hello to papa?" She was warming up from outside and a blush broke across her face as she watched her little boy stand on the couch and explore the man he had only known through pictures and stories.

Collier leaned in close to Victor's face, looking into his eyes. "Hi." Victor reached out and held the boy under the arms to steady him and looked back.

"Hi." His son had soft brown hair like his mother had had. Creed gave him a once over sniff causing giggles and noted that he was a mutant, but he saw no claws, no fangs, nothing.

Emma came over and placed two steaming mugs of tea on the coffee table then went back for a warm sippy cup of hot chocolate.

Collier squirmed out of his father's grip and grabbed the cup with both hands, dropping his toy in his lap. He kicked his legs on the edge of the couch while Victor watched him.

"What happened?"

"I was pregnant when you...left. I moved out here to see Dr. Patel. She couldn't do anything but it turned out she didn't need to. It was a bit scary being alone during the whole thing, but Collier was healthy and he's been a very good boy." Emma doted on her son by stroking his fawn hair while he drank and absently squeezed his father's hand.

Creed didn't know if he was angry that he had talked to the Kinn boys and her godson and neither had mentioned his little son. "Where you been gettin' the money for this and supportin' those three back in Vancouver? I saw those school and rehab bills by the way."

"Mrs. Norris babysits Collier while I work." Emma indicated the woman who owned the dog with a hand gesture.

"What kinda work would that be?" He raised a blond eyebrow while his son put down his cup and crawled back up the couch and started to dig through his suit pockets. Creed picked him up and put him in his lap and gave him the ring of keys to flap around.

"The kind that pays very well."

"Yer a prostitute?"

"I'm a merc." She replied irritably.

"You are not." Creed laughed.

Emma sipped her tea, ignoring him.

"You've built up this family around you, without me." Victor suddenly became solemn, sobering at the realisation that he was being pushed out of his wife's life as the most important thing.

"Victor, don't look so hurt, you've always been invited, you just never wanted to be a part of it." Emma replied honestly.


	6. Chapter 6

**Sabretooth and others belong to Marvel, the rest are mine. **

**Comment and constructive criticism welcome.**

**And yes, Collier probably has a better mastery of the English language than most 3-year-olds, but I despise baby talk.**

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**Victor had always known kids to be resilient but the sheer fact that his son talked and interacted with him these last few days as though he had always been there was curious. Collier spoke quietly and gently, and greatly enjoyed sharing his world with his father. Every half hour another exclamation of, "papa look!" could be heard from the boy as he held up another toy from his bin or pointed out another pigeon on the sidewalk.

At first it was overwhelming to hear himself being referred to as 'papa' at every turn, but Creed was starting to adjust, and he was beginning to warm into it, much like a heavy woolen sweater against the chill of a winter evening.

Emma remained at a distance. Somehow in the queen sized bed they shared she had managed to find a way to lay next to him and not once touch him the past three nights. Creed had tried to initiate sex the first two nights but a woman scorned had a way of shutting any man down no matter how raging his erection.

The third night they had talked.

The week of his kidnapping, Emma had been in Seattle, under the guise of staying in one of Creed's safe houses whilst shopping and relaxing away from home while Victor was having his memories drudged around by the telepath Psi-Borg. It was not uncommon for her to leave while he underwent these archaeological digs for his memories because the rage and violence it unleashed within him tended to disrupt their marriage, to say the least, for the weeks afterward.

However Emma was actually in Seattle for a completely different reason. Never having lost touch with the three boys who had entered her life ever-so briefly over a decade earlier, she had received a distressed call from the eldest one night while Victor and Birdy were out on a job. Gren had called in a panic that his brother, Freddy, was strung out and wandering the streets nearly a three hour drive from home looking for drugs after a falling out with his brothers. He already had a few knocks against him for drug possession but the cops hadn't picked him up yet, and Gren and Alex were scared that he may end up dead soon.

When she had returned home to Vancouver nearly a week later, with no Freddy and no leads, she turned into the drive way to find her home a flaming wreck. Birdy had actually pulled a gun on her when she found the other stuffing clothes into a duffel bag frantically.

"What happened? Where's-?"

"I can't, we have to go. Emma, we have to go. Creed's going to come back and he's going to kill us. We don't have time!" Birdy picked up the bag and pulled Emma along in tow down the stairs to the car waiting next to the mansion.

"Birdy! What happened?" Emma pulled away, her exhaustion making her irritable and stubborn.

"He has a son. That bastard has a son with some other woman. I couldn't believe it, but there he was, on the phone with me just the night before last. The crap that Creed's put me through, that he's put _you_ through? I couldn't say no." Birdy was turning into a fiery mess on her and Emma remained just as confused as she was when she drove on to the property.

"I don't understand what you're telling me..."

"This guy, Tribune, gets in contact with me. He was so angry and full of hate, it was so easy to pick inside his mind, and it was plain as day that he was looking to take revenge against his father, Mister Creed." Birdy started the car but ran around to the other side to face Emma. "Emma, I'm sorry. I know you love him, but he doesn't deserve you. He never has. Please, come with me." Birdy brushed some of Emma's black hair out of her eyes and held her upper arms tight, her eyes blinking back tears.

"So you let this...Tribune...into the house and he took Victor?" Emma's voice faltered from what her friend was telling her. Her husband had a living and breathing son. A full grown son. With another woman.

"Creed's going to be back very soon, but he's going to kill us, we have to go."

"I can't go," It was like she was in shock, her voice was so distant and her brain just couldn't make it over the soul breaking information. "The house is on fire, I can't leave the house on fire. I need to talk to Victor, straighten this all out."

Birdy slapped her square across the mouth in the heat of her own anger.

"He doesn't love you! He's never loved you! Don't you dare stay here for him!" The blond was nearly shrieking in fury. "I love you! Can't you see that? I want you to be with me!"

The admission hung in the air between them while Birdy wiped a few tears away and Emma fetched the vibrating mobile phone from her pocket. It was Gren.

Birdy busied herself with throwing more suitcases into the truck while Emma answered her phone. Freddy had been picked up by Seattle police for causing a disturbance and could she please go pick him up, Gren had school and Alex had never been able to handle his brother.

"I have to go back to Seattle." Emma clicked her phone off and mumbled to the ground. "I have to take care of something important, but I'll be back. Will you-?"

"No." Birdy replied sternly. "I'm never coming back here, dead or alive." She opened the garage door, took out a large hunting knife and started to slash the tires on all of the cars parked within.

"Birdy..." Emma said quietly.

"Go. Leave. Goodbye." Birdy didn't turn around.

Understanding that this was how they were going to say goodbye, at least for now, Emma ran into the garage and kissed the back of Birdy's head, long and hard, then ran back to her own car to take off back to Seattle before she broke down under the weight of everything that had happened in the course of only a handful of minutes.

oooo

Creed was still trying to think of something to say to his wife after that night but nothing seemed appropriate, so instead he spent a lot of time getting to know Collier, the son he was privileged enough to know.

"Papa look! Balloons!" The boy pointed high in the air at three helium balloons soaring into the blue autumn sky over head, let go by their owners. Collier continued to watch them while Creed moved through the crowds of shoppers along 5th avenue, kicking himself for walking down here, particularly with his son. He held on to him tightly in his arms, possibly too tight, but Collier didn't complain.

Creed had picked up a scent and was desperate to move off the street quickly and make it back home but with the swirl of people around him, he wouldn't be able to make a run for it without causing a scene.

"Papa look! That man has funny hair!"

The crowd had parted around someone stopped and as Creed approached them, a little too late, he found himself in front of Wolverine with only seven feet between them. The shorter looked surprised as he saw the small child hefted in the larger feral's arms, but Creed was determined not to have a confrontation and swerved into the nearest store, which happened to be a Tiffany's.

"Did you see him papa?" Collier whispered, noting that the store was for quiet voices only. "I think he saw you."

Without realising what he was doing, Creed gripped his son tightly into a hug and let out a huge breath of relief.

"Stealin' kids now, are we?" The runt walked into the store behind them. Creed turned around angrily.

"Get away from us." The threat hung tangibly in the air and he didn't doubt he gave off the stench of a trapped wild animal protecting its young. Logan actually took an appreciative step back and raised a hand to placate Sabretooth.

Collier looked unsure but gave a half hearted wave to Wolverine. "I like your funny hair." He said quietly, unsmiling.

"Can I help you gentlemen?" A sales associate walked over to them with a tight smile on her face.

"Just browsin'." Creed grunted, not taking his eyes off of the runt. He headed slowly and purposefully back towards the door and Logan gave him a wide berth, understanding and accepting and strangely encouraged by the whole unexpected interaction.

They fled back to the apartment, taking the subway and running the last few blocks to the building. As they stood in the elevator, Collier pointed out quietly that Victor was shaking and put both hands against his father's cheeks to force him to look at him. "Are you okay?"

"Yer two an' a half, and yer asking me if I'm okay?" Creed let out a snicker of relief as the doors slid open on his floor.

"I'm three."

Victor unlocked the door and put Collier down after taking off his boots and coat, and let the boy run to his mother for a hug before grabbing up his hippopotamus and making his way to the bedroom to take his nap on his parent's bed without being asked.

Creed approached Emma after throwing his own coat over the back of a chair and wrapped her tightly in a hug that she couldn't argue with.

"Thank you fer not takin' him away from me." Victor whispered into her ear.

Emma's eyes widened as though the thought had never crossed her mind.


	7. Chapter 7

**Sabretooth and others belong to Marvel, the rest are mine.**

**Comment welcome.**

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**"Well this place is a dump." Emma hiked Collier up in her arms as they walked away from the cab up the driveway of their neglected mansion back in Vancouver. Collier was sleeping on her shoulder, giving in to the excitement of his first plane ride.

Creed glared at her. He took great pride in his property and for her to criticized the roof he put over her head pissed him off. "Well maybe if you hadn't traipsed off to New York, the place wouldn't have gone t'hell like this." He lifted the bags up and walked angrily to the front door.

"Oh, so when you're dicking around the world I'm expected to stay behind and take care of your things? Sit home and wait for you with a cocktail ready in hand for the minute you waltz back in?" Emma hissed trying not to wake her son.

"Waltz back in? You're not gettin' it, I was a prisoner for nearly three years. I was locked up in a closet for most of it, bein' treated like someone's pet! I didn't have the luxury of waltzin' back home!" Creed's temper led to a final roar, scaring Collier awake and making him cry. Emma only glared at her husband before hushing and rocking her son in comfort.

Victor, still foul tempered, kicked the front door down and a cloud of dust rose up in the foyer while a giant white van pulled up the drive.

"Misses Creed! Misses Creed! We missed you so much, you our best customer, Mister Creed so messy." An old Chinese man exited the passenger side door and ran up to the front porch smiling and shaking hands.

The Hongs were a family who worked crime scene clean up. They were efficient, speedy, discrete, and good-natured. Emma had been hiring them for years to clean up after her husband and the trash he tended to bring home. She had called them from New York to arrange for them to clean the house from top to bottom once they arrived home and the amount of money she offered, it was hard to say no, even if it was just a good dusting that was needed.

The rest of Mr. Hong's family piled out of the van and a subsequent car that followed them in, and greeted the Creeds with smiles before starting to pull out equipment from the van, ready to work.

Emma welcomed them into the house and let them get started while speaking quietly to Mr. Hong. Creed sat heavily on the bench sitting on the front porch and fumed until she reappeared and stood in front of him.

"Why don't you go for a walk?" She suggested in an unfriendly tone of voice, rubbing the back of Collier's jacket as he gripped her neck tightly.

Victor stood and reached out for his son but Emma shrank back. "Give me my boy." He threatened.

"He's scared of you now, is that what you wanted?"

Angrily, he reached out again and this time took hold of his son, but the boy squealed and reached out for his mother. Victor had to relinquish him, trying to hide his hurt by grinding his teeth and balling his hands into fists, drawing blood as the claws came out and punctured the skin.

"Just go, let off some steam." She dug out a wet nap from her purse and handed it to him.

oooo

The forest was half gone by the time Victor had returned home. Knocked down for new housing development. Soon enough he and the animals of the area would no longer have anywhere to run and survive.

Ripping up a tree stump, he roared into the dusk, his breath coming out in a fog. He was angry with Emma and her bitchy attitude, he was angry at the X-Men for depriving him of time with his son, he was angry with himself for losing it in front of his little boy, scaring him in a way he never wanted his son to be scared.

Finally he ran out of steam and began the trek back to the mansion while the wind crept up and blew the dried, dead leaves around his feet. By the time he approached the gates, the cleaning van was leaving. They waved to him as he walked up the drive but he did not return the favour.

The front door was unlocked and he entered. It was still a disaster but the light bulbs had been replaced and the dust had been cleared. The stairway carpet had been ripped up but not replaced yet.

Emma heard him enter and walked from the living area down the long expanse of the first floor and made her way to him while Collier continued to colour on the floor by one of the couches.

"Feeling better?" She asked evenly. Creed slapped her so hard she fell into the stairs and didn't move.

"I do now." He replied and continued to the kitchen. He could hear little stockinged feet run down the wooden floor of the hallway and a worried little voice call for her. He ripped the fridge open but it was still bare. Clean, but bare.

Victor took a breath with his eyes closed, softly shut the door then returned to where he had left his wife. Collier watched him with wide eyes as he crouched down beside her and wrapped her up in his arms. In an attempt to express how angry she was without subjecting her son to any more violence, Emma let herself be held then slowly bit down deeply into Victor's shoulder harder and harder until he winced and let her go.

All three were now quiet on the stairs.

Collier crawled up beside his mother and poked his head through her arms and said he was hungry. She leaned down and spoke softly to him, cutting Creed out of the conversation, saying that they would go pick up something to eat very shortly.

oooo

The rest of the evening was spent in near silence. The entire first level and the master bedroom of the second level had been cleaned, so the Hong family would be back bright and early in the morning to continue their work. New windows were on their way as well as new carpeting and curtains, of course at Victor's expense, and would be installed later that next week.

They were all piled into the master bed, Collier sleeping between them while he and Emma lay on their backs wide awake and staring at the ceiling in the dark, ignoring the other.

"I think I can be a good dad." He broke the stillness.

"I don't think I can trust you to be around my son alone." Emma reached out and touched Collier protectively.

"Don't you fuckin' start with me. He's _my_ son. Mine!" Creed leaned over and hissed in her face.

"Oh, you want this one, but not the other one?" Emma strained to pull away from him and his breath.

"What does that even mean?" With his stealth, he got out of bed and managed to pull her out by her upper bicep, all without waking the little boy in bed. He dragged her down to the kitchen and threw her into the island. "What the fuck does that mean?" In a show of restraint, he managed to keep his voice down.

"This Graydon kid of yours with your whore. He sounds like he could have used a dad!" Emma growled back.

"You don't even make sense! You're crazy! I didn't know he even existed because I thought Leni was dead! I saw her body dragged outta th' canal, for fuck sake!" His voice boomed as his eyes began to shine white.

"Leni? Her name is Leni?" Emma shouted, no longer able to keep her voice down.

"It was when I knew her, turns out she was a double crossin' bitch named Mystique - kinda like YOU!"

"Double-crossing bitch? When have I ever, EVER double-crossed you? I've done everything I ever could to keep you happy and you still run out on me, cheat on me, smack me around!"

"You drive me INSANE! That's all you ever do! You wanna know somethin' sweetheart? Do ya? I actually fuckin' LOVED her! She meant the world t'me! I wanted to stay shacked up in Berlin with her fer the rest of my life instead o' coming back home t'you, you crazy fucking BITCH! Had I known she had a son, I woulda left yer ass in a heartbeat!"

The argument ended there in a dead silence as things that couldn't be unsaid left his lips. Collier was upstairs calling for his mother, but Emma could only stand there looking like she was about to drown herself in the pool just outside the sliding doors. Her face had gone ashen and her eyes lost their light. She turned slowly and pushed through the swinging door, leaving him in the kitchen.


	8. Chapter 8

**Sabretooth and others belong to Marvel, the rest are mine.**

**Comment welcome.**

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**For the past two night Creed slept on the couch in his office, ignoring the work going on around his home. He suspected that the Hongs had to be finished today and he would dearly love some peace and quiet finally.

He hadn't seen Emma or Collier since his fight in the kitchen, electing to lock himself up in his study. His wife was still in the house so that must have been a good sign, he thought. They were still leaving for meals, not having had the chance to go grocery shopping as the days were busy and the nights were used to collapse into bed. This left Creed with no food to eat on his short night excursions to the kitchen for water. He looked a mess and couldn't bring himself to leave the property, feeling about as low as a person could get. His soul stung as though Emma had been the one to disclose her love for another person in a heated fight and not the other way around. It hurt so bad he couldn't bring himself to breathe sometimes.

The workers were packing it in for the day and slowly his house quieted down. He could sense Emma and Collier leaving through the front door and locking it behind them as they left for dinner. Creed didn't budge from laying in the window box for a full ten minutes until he gave himself a stern talking to to snap the hell out of his stupor.

He got up and stretched, letting out a roar to wake himself up. Then he left the study and jogged up the back stairs to get to the second floor and walked down the winding hallway to the bedroom. It smelled like tears.

Continuing to move ahead, Creed pulled his shirt off over his head and yanked his sweat pants down, getting ready to hop into the shower. His mind wandered as he washed his hair and body under the spray of water. He would need to get a new shower head as the pressure in his one had weakened in its disuse.

He toweled himself off and found a new set of lounge clothes among the piles of freshly cleaned jaundry Emma had run through the washer and dryer that day. Everything that had remained behind had been stuff into the machines or attached to the stack of dry cleaning bills on one of the low tables. Creed zipped up the matching hoodie and messed up his hair before heading down to wait on the stair. He was the man, he had to straighten out the situation. He was still determined that it wasn't all his fault, but it was his duty to fix it.

Emma finally drove back through the gates and parked outside the garage. She opened the door for Collier to make his way in and avoided making eye contact with him. She had a large brown bag emblazoned with a fast food joint logo on it in one hand and her keys in another. The little boy took off his shoes but kept his coat and mittens on.

She moved to the kitchen but stopped when she noticed that Collier wasn't following her. Instead he had his mittened hand wrapped around Victor's index finger while he looked up at her. Victor's eyes looked a little wet as he watched his son but he was trying hard to hide it by avoiding her face.

"I have dinner for you." Emma said stiffly then left the two of them on the stair.

Collier waddled into the space between Victor's legs, still bundled in his Fall coat, and tried to wrap his arms around his father's middle. Creed hugged him back and pushed his cheek into his little boy's hair, sniffing him, causing a torrent of giggles.

oooo

His son had fallen asleep in Victor's lap, sprawled out against his stomach as Victor lay back in bed watching TV. Bobo, the hippopotamus, dragged lazily on the sheets next to them. Emma was finishing up a bath, the door open a crack and steam wafting through into the room until she opened it wide and walked naked to the closet beside the bathroom to grab some pyjamas and an extra blanket.

Leaving her hair wet, she picked up her pillow and the blanket and set up a place to sleep on the soft couch near the balcony for the night. Creed lifted a hand at her begging, "Please, come sleep in the bed."

"I don't want to be near you." She muttered and landed on the couch.

'I said a lot o' stupid things the other night that I didn't mean." He whispered.

"Things you didn't mean, or things you didn't mean to say?"

"I was angry and made shit up to put you in yer place and it sort of got out of hand."

"Victor, I have known you for a very, very long time. You're a cruel, heartless bastard, but you're not a liar." She grinded out quietly through her clenched teeth.

"Babe, I love you, I'll always love you."

"You love Leni."

"Sweetheart, there ain't no Leni. Leni doesn't exist." Creed replied, slightly louder and more exasperated than he meant. Collier stirred but continued to sleep. Emma just gave him an angry, what-the-hell-are-you-talking-about look. "I never met the actual lady, all I ever knew was Mystique masquerading as her. It was all an act, the Leni I knew doesn't exist, you ain't got no competition. An' as far as Mystique goes, I fuckin' hate that bitch more'n you'll ever know..."

"She might have been fake, but she was real to you, and you really loved her." Emma replied quietly, hiking the blanket up further.

Creed couldn't think of a response right away because she was right, and he was forced into silence that seemed to ruin any headway he was getting to fixing his mistake. The momentum was gone. "So if you don't think I love you, why are you still here?" He grumbled.

"Because if I leave, you'll hunt us down and rip me to shreds." Great. Not only had be destroyed any love his wife might still have for him, but she was also only staying out of fear and pain of death. _What a great marriage he had, what a great fuckin' husband he was. _

"Well I'm a world-class fuck up." Creed breathed.

"Please watch your mouth in front of my son." Emma replied, causing him to growl in response.


	9. Chapter 9

**Sabretooth and others belong to Marvel, the rest are mine.**

**Comments welcome.**

**Author's Note: This chapter was removed, entirely rewritten and reposted.**

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The phone echoed throughout the silent house well past midnight. Creed couldn't believe someone had the audacity to call at such an hour considering they had no family or friends to speak of. Emma picked up the line after the third ring and he could hear her whispers as he stood out in the hall, checking on Collier, who was fast asleep in his own tiny bed. The furniture had arrived earlier that day and it was his first night alone. Funny that it should have been his father that needed the assurance that he would be alright by himself.

He caught the click of the phone as his wife hung up the line and started to get dressed. She appeared in the darkened hallway, a little startled to see him standing in their son's doorway. Pulling on her trench coat and hoisting up a purse, she started down the stairs.

"And where are you goin'?" He asked lazily while folding his arms across his bare chest.

"Freddy's in hospital." Emma murmured and stepped into a pair of flats, digging her car keys out of the bag.

"Emma, they ain't your kids." He walked down the stairs quietly towards her, suppressing his irritation.

"They need me." She swallowed.

"They're grown men, they don't need you." Creed reached out and gripped her wrist tightly, painfully.

"I'm not arguing with you about this, let me go." Emma tried to break his grasp, knowing he would let go when he was good and ready, but trying all the same.

When he did let go, they stared at each other hard. "You don't get it, do you? You've never been around for me. I can't depend on you. I can't even trust you. At least the boys have always been there. They're my family. I need them."

Creed didn't answer. He watched her turn and make her way to the garage while he stood in the dark listening to the car leaving the drive way and the house settling around him.

oooo

Gren looked like shit. He sat in the hospital waiting room, bleary-eyed, his mouth hanging open ever so slightly, and his coat hanging from his arms. It took him a moment to register Emma standing in front of him.

"He got in a fight." He muttered and washed his hands over his face, trying to wake up. She sank down to the chair behind him, sitting on Alex's coat. He was nowhere to be seen at the moment. "He got drunk and he got in a fight at some party. They jumped him and beat the crap out of him."

"He's not supposed to be drinking." Emma muttered and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear disappointed.

"One of his idiot friends called me instead of calling a fucking ambulance. I have an exam first thing today." The clock was nearing 2am in the waiting room. Alex appeared with two Styrofoam cups of coffee in hand, balancing them carefully before looking up to find Emma sitting with his elder brother.

He smiled briefly and offered her his cup to which she declined with a shake of her head. "Have you seen him yet?" Blond hair flopped in his eyes as he stood over them both. The two seated shook their heads.

"Grendel, why don't you and your brother go home. I'll wait here." Emma squeezed his hand. Gren handed her his coffee and stood up angrily.

"Yeah okay. I don't have time for this." He punched his arms through the sleeves of his coat and looked at Alex waiting. "Coming?"

"No, I'm going to stay here." Alex shook his head. He was the youngest of the three brothers but he stood two inches taller than his older brother.

"You have work in the morning." Gren frowned.

"It's fine. I'll call in sick if I have to."

"If you're not working, and Freddy's not working, we can't afford rent!" Gren remembered himself and lowered his voice. "Just...do whatever, I don't care." And he stormed off down the hospital hall and out of their sight.

"Should I-?" Emma stood up, worried.

"No, he's just really stressed and sleep deprived right now." Alex swirled the warm liquid in the cup gently before moving to take his brother's now-vacant seat.

"Have you seen Freddy yet?" She sat back down beside him.

"No. Not since we got to the hospital. When we got to the party, he was unconscious and covered in blood though. I'm sure it just looked worse than what it was."

They sat in anxious silence for twenty minutes before a nurse came out for Alex. Emma was asked to stay behind as she wasn't family, so she cleaned up the empty cups and walked the length of the hallway until he returned.

Emma rubbed her chest, worry was building up inside her. Her stomach curdled around the vending machine coffee and she thought she might be sick for a moment, wandering the hall uselessly. Finally Alex reappeared.

"He's alive." He flashed a half hearted smile. Emma's brows knit together as she gave him a look begging him to continue. "He's not pretty to look at, but it'll heal. Broken nose, broken right arm, sprained ankle, bruised ribs. He probably deserved all of it." Alex laughed without merriment. "We can take him home this afternoon, right now they want to keep him for observation because of the concussion."

"He won't be able to work for a few weeks." Emma bit her lip.

Alex confirmed this with silence.

"Why don't you boys move in with us for a while. It'll take a lot of pressure off of you. We can take care of Freddy." She held his hands in hers, waiting for a response.

"Yeah, that would be lovely." Another half-hearted smile and a great nod came from him, worried about what his brothers would say.


	10. Chapter 10

**Sabretooth and others belong to Marvel, the rest are mine.**

**Comments welcome.**

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Collier was still dozing in his bed when Emma arrived home just after 3:30am. Victor was still awake but was back in bed, watching her as she came in and prepared for bed again. At length, he raise up his arm, inviting her to curl up beside him for comfort. She didn't have any strength to fight it and she sobbed into his chest the minute his arm draped over her.

"Car accident?" Creed inquired when she had calmed down.

"Jumped at a party." She replied, wiping her eyes.

"He okay?"

"He's alive." Emma borrowed the reply from Alex. "We're bringing him home this afternoon."

Without much concern, Victor closed his eyes and fell asleep holding his wife against him.

oooo

"I'll do it!" Freddy yelled as Alex approached the foot of the stairs to the porch with his wheelchair. Stubbornly, he stood and used the banister for support as he hobbled up one stair at a time, his right arm in a cast and sling, his right foot wrapped in gauze.

The front door kicked open and Creed stood angrily in the doorway.

"What the hell is goin' on?" The question was directed at Emma, who was pulling bags out of the trunk of her car.

"I told you I was bringing Freddy home this afternoon." She pushed past him and dropped two suitcases down in the foyer before returning to help him make the last step while Alex carried the wheelchair over the threshold.

"You didn't say _this_ home." He growled.

Instead of arguing, Emma looked at him with heartbreak and disappointment. It was a trick up her sleeve that she didn't know she had to make Creed melt into compliance. In frustration, he ran his fingers through his hair and roared, startling Collier who stood in the doorway of he kitchen, the swinging door resting against his back.

"Where the hell is he gonna sleep? He can't very well get up and down them stairs easily."

"Yes I can." Freddy interjected irritably, his left eye still swollen shut. Creed growled at him.

Emma moved to the staircase and let her burden sit down on the bottom. Collier was moving closer to the foyer, little hands clasping the banister railings. She gave her son a brief smile then pulled Victor into the kitchen for a heated talk.

Alex stood awkwardly in the doorway, trying to ignore the yelling in the next room, not sure if he should go back to the car for the last bag. Freddy was swaying on the steps lightly, the painkillers having the desired effect he was looking for finally. He shouldn't have been on any pills, but no one had told the doctors that he was an addict.

A loud crash came from the kitchen but no one moved, Emma cried out angrily. There was some rhythmic pounding that no one dared to check in on until finally another roar echoed back to them followed by a resounding slap.

Freddy was too far gone to understand the noises and Collier too young. Alex stood frozen, unsure of what he should do. For a while there was silence until Emma emerged looking a bit harried, and as the door to the kitchen swung open, Creed was seen doing up his belt while leaving through the sliding patio door. Alex opened his mouth and then shut it again.

"Let's get you settled upstairs." She lifted a bag, not even catching that Freddy was stoned.

oooo

The mansion had a different feeling to him than when he was three. He was still scared to be alone in it, but for different reasons this time. Alex sat on the floor of Freddy's room while Emma sat with his brother, trying to distract him from his pain. She had found the bottle of painkillers the doctor had sent him home with, and dumped them down the toilet.

"Are you okay?" Alex finally blurted out, done fiddling with his over-sized flannel shirt.

"I'm fine." She replied, distracted by Freddy's squirming.

"Should we go?"

"Of course not." Freddy was squeezing her hand incredibly tight, making her grimace and gasp. Alex got up and tried to extricate her from his brother's death grip and replaced his own hand for hers.

"I've got it. Why don't you go take a nap with Collie?"

Emma nodded and told him she would just be in the next room if he needed anything. After she disappeared, Alex tried to pay attention to Freddy, but he heard someone else walking through the house and his fear crept up on him. Slowly, foot steps made their way up the staircase. Freddy had finally relaxed and fallen asleep but it was Alex who was gripping his hand tightly this time. The foot steps stopped right outside the door and waited silently looming.

Finally, Creed took another step and crossed the path in front of the door way. He looked in on Alex and his brother with a frown and then asked, "Are you cryin'?"

Alex's hand went up to his face and it was indeed wet. His stomach was in knots and he was absolutely terrified of who was coming up the stairs that he hadn't noticed he had been crying. Creed gave him a strange look and walked on to the next room where his son and wife were sleeping. Instead of entering, he continued past and disappeared somewhere else in the house, much to Alex's relief.

oooo

Gren stayed another week in their apartment because they were still paying the rent and he needed the peace and quiet to study. But once the month was up, he packed up the remaining items that belonged to them in the furnished apartment and drove his rust-bucket car to the Creeds.

He stared at the mansion through his windshield as he slowly drove up the drive, not sure if this was a good idea. He parked the car and turned off the engine as Emma emerged from the front door to welcome him, her little boy in her arms.

"Morning." Gren gave a half wave and slammed the car door shut.

"Come on inside, it's cold out here." Emma beckoned smiling. "Victor wants to speak to all of you individually in his study. Alex is in with him now."

Gren hesitated. She showed him down an off-shoot of the main hallway and offered him some tea, to which he declined. Freddy sat on a wooden bench in the middle of the hall, waiting his turn. She left them to get caught up and start lunch while the brothers sat quietly together. Freddy's face had healed for the most part. A bandage still stuck on the bridge of his nose and some healing cuts on his forehead and lip, arm still in a sling. But he was getting on better now that the pain has dissipated.

"I feel like I'm waiting at the principal's office." Freddy muttered.

"You would know." Gren replied dryly.

"Shut up out there!" Came a roar from the closed office. "You were saying?" Creed prompted Alex, who was taking a long time to answer his question.

"Well, I want to become a police officer to help people who have been hurt." Alex finally spoke.

"Hurt like you?" Creed inferred.

The boy's mouth opened and closed without words. "Any kind of hurt."

"You got a lot o' work to do before the police will hire you." Victor wrote something down on the ledger he had in front of him on his desk.

"Like what?" Alex sat up and looked concerned.

"Well for starters, your interviewing skills suck. Also, you have no confidence. And you're scrawny."

Alex stared into his lap, playing with his hands, trying to avoid looking up or else he might start to cry.

"But," Creed sighed, not enjoying crushing the boy's dreams as much as he thought he would, "these are all things you can work on. Now send in the cripple - and Alex, don't call me Monster in front of my boy, you understand?"


	11. Chapter 11

**Sabretooth and others belong to Marvel, the rest are mine.**

**Comments welcome.**

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Freddy sank into the chair in front of Creed's desk and glared obstinately, waiting for whatever was going to happen. The feral man hasn't looked up at him yet, instead was scrawling notes on the pad in front of him. Finally, he flipped to a fresh piece of paper and poised his pen over it.

"How many times you been in rehab?"

"Is that your business?" Freddy replied.

"Yes, it's my fuckin' business." Creed growled.

There was a pause while he tried to decide whether to answer. Victor was patient. "Twice."

"Didn't stick?" His answer was a shake of a blond head. "Well you better start makin' it stick. Whaddya use?"

Grinding his teeth, not needing another lecture, Freddy replied, "Alcohol, Codeine, I tried heroine a few times but like coke a lot better."

"Name four things you aren't doing in this house." The request was rhetorical. "So what the hell are you gonna do with your life? You just gonna sit around like a slob, eatin' up my money, makin' my wife worry about you?"

"I don't need this." Freddy stood up and walked to the door.

"Sit your ass back down." Victor stood menacingly, threatening to come over and force the man to sit down. Instead Freddy compromised by standing with his head against the door and resting his hands on his head. "Sit down." He was prompted again and complied. "I don't like this any better than you, but I ain't getting no rest if you're out wandering the streets makin' my wife sick with worry. Smarten up, we're trying to make a better life for you."

"Well don't do me any favours." Freddy mumbled under his breath like a passive aggressive thirteen-year-old.

"Fuck - get outta my sight! But you listen t'me, I don't want your drunk ass anywhere near my son."

The door slammed behind him as he left, storming down the hallway and running gingerly up to his designated room in the mansion.

"Gren!" Came the roar.

oooo

"You seem to have your shit together so we're gonna make this quick." Creed growled and flipped to a new sheet on his pad. Gren had closed the door to the study, taking in the leather and wood surroundings, the smell of tobacco hung in the air. It came from a lit cigarette in the ashtray to Victor's left.

"Freddy has that effect on people." He sat in the chair that both his brothers had used before him.

"What's that?" Creed glared up from under bushy blond eyebrows.

"Needing a smoke to calm down." Gren continued. "I know he's a pain in the ass, but he has his reasons for being the way he is."

"Don't make excuses. You're both grown men, take responsibility for yourself and only yourself." Victor reached over with his right hand and picked up the cigarette, inhaling deeply and shooting the smoke out his nose. "How much longer you got in school?"

"I'm finishing classes this year and then I have a year long internship rotation which should start next Fall if I apply successfully." Gren he could deal with, the kid seemed like a straight shooter, held his head up high, didn't clutter conversation with meaningless chit chat.

"Why a lawyer?"

"I've always liked puzzles."

Creed tapped the desk in thought. No other questions seemed to come to mind. "Alright, get outta here, send Emma in, will ya? And Gren - I don't want you brinin' any boyfriends home for sleep overs."

Gren gave him a horrified look halfway to the door. His face melted in confusion and then replied, "I'm not seeing anyone right now, with school and..."

"Don't care, pass the word to your brothers as well. No friends or lovers in this house." Creed stubbed his butt out in the glass ashtray.

"What about study groups?" Gren cleared his throat.

"Fine, as long as you're all quiet as the dead." The larger man waved him out.

"Do I really look gay?"

"It's in yer scent." Creed replied, his patience wearing thin.

"I _smell_ gay?" Gren asked for clarification.

"It's more complicated than that - just go get my wife." Victor dismissed him and started to scribble on his note pad.

oooo

Emma put Collier down on the floor by his father's desk and handed him Bobo the hippopotamus before standing cross armed in front of Victor, who was now standing, leaning against his desk, taking a drag from his second cigarette.

"You wanted to see me?"

"I've decided they can stay. I've also decided that I don't care how fuckin' angry you are that I run around on you, you're my wife, you got wifely duties in the bedroom, and you're gonna get your ass back in my bed tonight or so help me, I might lose my temper." Creed breathed quietly. He noticed his son peering at him from over the counter. "Come here Col." He picked up his son and cradled him absently, waiting for Emma's response.

Instead she walked out of the room in silence, her scent furious in her wake.

"Momma says I have new brothers now." Collier pressed his cheek against Victor's shoulder and pulled Bobo up an inch.

"Yeah, momma says a lot of things, but you just remember that I'm the one whose word you listen to." He stroked his son's fawn hair gently while looking outside at the dead leaves on the ground.

"Cause you're the boss?" Collier asked.

"Cuz I'm the boss." Victor confirmed.


	12. Chapter 12

**Sabretooth and others belong to Marvel, the rest are mine.**

**Comments welcome.**

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Emma had come to bed that night and was currently laying under Creed, waiting for him to finish his heaving over top of her. She was looking out the balcony window with a scowl on her face.

"Could ya make some noise er somethin'?" He breathed, having a hard time keeping it going with such an unwilling partner.

"Are you done yet?" She offered.

Creed slapped her hard across the mouth and finally pulled out as his erection dissipated. "You watch yer goddamn mouth or I'll put it to better use."

Emma wiped her hand across her lips and found a trail of blood. She left the bed and went to the sink to wash her face. Once she dried off, she sank to the edge of the tub and stayed there a while. Creed found her staring off into space.

Leaning against the door frame, he crossed his arms over his wide chest and remained silent, watching the shadows in the corner of the bedroom. After a little bit, his erection came back. The movement from the corner of her eye made Emma look over at him. Creed wiggled his eyebrows and against her will she laughed.

"Come back t'bed." He offered her a clawed hand. Emma's face fell, staring at the claws. "Babe?"

Finally she stood and slowly made her way over to him. He pressed his palm into her lower back and guided her back to the bed. Crawling up over her, he lowered himself and took up where he had left off before the slap. Emma let him in this time and while she seemed more attentive, she still remained silent with her eyes lowered, watching him thrust in and pull out of her rhythmically.

"This is nice, yeah?" He asked. He couldn't remember the last time he had tried to be this gentle in bed. Victor reached up and stroked her cheek with his index finger, trying to prompt some response.

His hand moved down the bed and gripped her upper thigh tightly, his eyes closing and his breath beginning to labour. Creed lifted himself up on his right forearm and started to thrust with more force. "Kay." He grunted with his eyes squeezed shut and his body beginning to shudder as he unloaded himself inside her. He typically didn't give warnings when he was about to cum. It seemed a bit too gentlemanly.

Emma felt him pull out and fall on to his side while she got up to make her way to the washroom. When she returned to the bed, he was still on his back with a bead of drying semen on the tip of his penis.

She climbed under the covers and tried to fall asleep with him sprawled out on the sheets as he was.

oooo

"Where the hell is everybody?" Emma asked the empty house. She had just been upstairs putting away laundry for a few minutes and everyone was gone. The library, the den, the kitchen were all empty. She checked the office but only the hum of the computers were there. A fax was coming through as she left to wander down the hallway. Finally she found Gren, sitting in Victor's study, head hanging over his books and half a cup of cold coffee on a coaster. "You need a nap sweetheart." She murmured to him.

"Napping isn't going to help studying." He replied and flipped back a page in his book.

"You'll be more focused after some sleep." She came in and plumped a pillow up on the soft couch that didn't match the room at all, but Creed insisted on keeping. "Do you know where everyone is?"

Grendel shook his head no and took a sip of coffee. Emma left him to go back to the kitchen and put on another pot. On her way, she heard voices from the basement wafting up. Descending the staircase into the cold stone rooms, Emma looked around.

There was the cold cellar, which Victor avoided at all costs. He had told her once, a very long time ago, that his parents had kept him locked up in the root cellar when he was young and did terrible things to him. That was the first and last time he had ever talked about his childhood with her. If ever there was a need to grab a bottle of wine or a jar of pickles, it was Emma or Birdy who had to go fetch it. He just couldn't bring himself to walk into the room, as dark and cold as it was.

Past the cellar was a storage room filled with boxes of everything from Christmas decorations to stuffed, mounted dead animals. The basement only had three other rooms in it just down a short corridor. One was the security centre with the monitoring equipment, switches, and a small assortment of weapons behind lock and key. The second was the outlandishly large sparring room Victor demanded be installed for his workouts. The third was the weight room.

Creed was spotting Alex as he lifted a barbell on the weight bench. Freddy was watching on the bench with his arm still in a cast and his foot still a bit tender, and Collier was hoisting around a 2 pound weight.

"Momma! I'm lifting weights! I'm gonna be strong like papa!" He ran over to her, abandoning the weight when he saw her.

"What's going on?" She lifted him up in her arms but asked Victor.

"Well Alex needs to toughen up some for the PT test, and Freddy, when he's better, needs to learn to fight." Creed helped Alex lower the weight on to the little shelf and clapped once to indicate he was happy.

A small smile crept over her face as she realised Victor was starting to bond with the boys. "I was going to start some lunch, if you're hungry."

"Yeah alright. Hit the showers." Creed gave Alex a well-intentioned shove towards the door while he picked up a spray bottle to wipe down the bench. Freddy stood up and followed Emma out, murmuring that he would help in the kitchen.


	13. Chapter 13

**Sabretooth and others belong to Marvel, the rest are mine.**

**Comments welcome.**

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The den and library ceiling was two storeys high. This left Victor wondering how his TV remote had managed to find its way balanced on a painting about thirteen feet above the ground near the chimney of the fireplace. How in living hell was he going to get it down.

"Did you do this?" He stabbed a claw towards the painting and growled lightly at his wife. She looked up from her book while lounging on one of the couches and thought for a moment.

"Collier, get in here now." Soft socked footsteps ran into the den. "We don't hide things, remember?" She lifted his chin up so that he was looking her in the eye.

"Yes momma." His happy smile turned grumpy.

"Can you get the remote down now?" She pointed in the general direction of where it was resting.

Collier made a big sigh and turned towards the fireplace. He caught his father watching him and he broke out in a smile again and raised his arms to be picked up, which Creed obliged. He turned his attentions back to the remote and pointed up at it while his face took on a serious, concentrating look.

Electricity snapped beside Victor's ears, startling him. He felt his heart slow down. And then out of nowhere, the remote fell to the ground in front of them. Creed looked down at his feet where it had tumbled and rolled.

"Object teleportation?"

"So far. He's pretty good for a three-year-old." Emma turned a page in her book.

"When I first got back here, I found a clean towel and some money layin' around..." Creed narrowed his eyes, piecing things together.

"I wanted to send you Bobo, but momma said no." Collier mashed the stuffed animal in question into his face, feigning shyness.

"New York t'Vancouver is a long distance." Victor replied to his wife, unconvinced.

"We used the magic mirror! We watched you!" His son exploded in giggles.

Three-year-olds were notoriously awful for getting information from, so Victor took in a deep breath and blew noises into his son's tummy, making his shriek and laugh, then put him down and walked to the couch, scooping up the remote on the way.

"What is he talkin' about?"

Emma looked up finally but looked unsure of what to say. "You know that full length mirror back at the apartment? The one you brought back from Brazil?"

"No."

"Right, well I had some time on my hands and I got the inscription translated - it was in Slavic. Anyway, the mirror is bound by something, magic, I don't know. You can use it to see places and people and Collier just teleported things to the places he saw in the mirror - so I suppose it wasn't as long a distance as it should have been." Emma sat up.

"Well that's creepy. Wait - so did you _know_ that I was locked up at the X-Mansion?"

She shook her head no and returned to her book. "Lyin' bitch." He muttered and flicked on the television.

oooo

Creed was doing his midnight perimetre walk through the grounds. It had been a few weeks now that his house had filled up with people. Strangely, he was beginning to feel familial with the boys, protective.

Much like when he was three, Alex still tended to follow him around like his shadow, though Creed suspected the boy - _man__,_ didn't realise it most of the time, only wafted towards those that might protect him.

Gren he hadn't seen much of as he was curtly told final exams were drawing near. The man had commandeered Victor's study, using the couch to sleep more often than his own bed, and living off of coffee and bites of sandwiches. He was looking gaunt from the stress and malnutrition, if he had been nine again, Child Services would have taken him away. Creed had finally forced him to join them at the table for dinner that evening, and eat everything Emma has put on his plate.

Freddy was still a pain in the ass but now with his cast off, Victor was starting to train him to fight and focus his destructive tendencies towards something positive. He had plans to wake the kid up at 7am and force him to go for a run together.

The fresh snow melted under Creed's bare feet as he darted in and out of the trees on the property. The walls had been inspected and rebuilt in places, the security system had been replaced with something more efficient and up-to-date. It had cost him an arm and a leg but the work was starting to build up again, ensuring he would not be in want of money...or blood.

He still hadn't really started throwing himself into work. A large part of him just wanted to stay home, which he attributed to his little son. He and Emma were still on rocky terms, but the sex had improved, making everything else negatable. She had suggested they try going out on a date that weekend, but he wasn't keen on leaving Collier alone with any of the Kinn boys at the moment.

Creed heard the outside door click open from the other side of the property. He smelled Freddy moving across the lawn, and an approaching stranger. Victor cut through the brush like a knife and skirted the house.

Freddy was wrapped in a heavy sweater and wearing rubber boots and pyjama bottoms. He was standing about two feet away from the front gates, talking to a guy his age who stood on the outside. Creed was easily able to pick up their conversation on the winds.

"Yeah, man. Charlie died last week. Stupid fuck OD'd. I didn't sell him that stuff man." The guy pulled at his hat nervously, his eyes darting around as were his feet.

"Why didn't anyone tell me?" Freddy asked, his voice choked.

"You don't hang out with us anymore." He shrugged.

"Charlie's my friend!"

"Was."

Freddy made angry noises and messed up his hair, nearly pulling it out. He finally came to rest with his back against the gate.

"You, ah, want anything? I'll give it to you at a discount man."

Creed watched Freddy think on it a moment. After a minute, the dealer slipped out a little baggie and offered it through the bars of the gate, saying it was free of charge. Freddy looked down, still considering.

By this time Victor had scaled the perimetre wall and had snuck up behind Freddy's friend as if from nowhere, and slammed the dealer's face into the bars of the gate repeatedly. "Get offa my property! You talk to him again and I'll rip yer throat OUT!" Creed threw the man out into the street, being more generous with the man's life than he usually was for the sake of Freddy.

As the guy scrambled away back to his car down the block. Creed jumped the wall again and marched up to Freddy. "Gimme." He demanded with an open palm and a scowl.

"What?" Freddy narrowed his eyes defensively.

"Give. It."

They glared at each other for a full minute until Freddy finally put the little baggie of white crystals into Victor's massive hand begrudgingly. Creed reached out and slapped the back of the boy's head. "You really wanna put this garbage in your body? You wanna be some jacked up waste of a human being fer the rest o' yer life? Get yer ass in the house."

oooo

"I can't..." Freddy gasped on the second mile of the jog.

"Stop bitchin' like a girl." Creed was still furious about last night, but the three mile light run he was forcing the boy into was nowhere near a punishment.

"But my ankle hurts and I'm starving." He breathed.

"See this? This is my 'I give a shit' face."

"Funny, it looks just like your 'I don't give a shit' face." Freddy mumbled as he slowed his pace down to almost walking.

Creed circled back and kicked him lightly in the butt to get him moving faster. "If you want breakfast, yer gonna have to pick it up."

"Seriously, my ankle hurts."

"Push through the pain."

"I don't heal super fast! If I screw up my ankle, it's screwed up for weeks!" Freddy yelled as they broke through the forest path back on to concrete sidewalks of the suburbs.

"You want me to carry you? I can pick you up and cradle you all the way back home like a baby. Would that work for you?" Creed jogged lightly backwards in front of him.

Freddy finally just stopped running and took in a breath. "Just stop it alright. This fucking sucks, I don't need your crap."

"I'll stop when you do." Creed loomed over him with his hands on his hips. "Now get runnin'."

The last mile was run in silence save for Freddy's very laboured breathing. They crested the front gates and Victor started to verbally push him to keep it up until they made it to the front steps and not to lose momentum.

The boy collapsed on the stairs, gasping for air, his face flushed and covered in sweat. Emma opened the door in her pyjamas and brought them both a bottle of water that was sitting at room temperature.

"How'd it go?" She wasn't aware of last night's activities.

"I think I'm dying." Freddy wheezed.

"We got a lot o' work to do." Creed grumbled and took a swig of water.

"Okay, well I made pancakes." Emma went back inside.

"Go eat and then meet me in the weight room."


	14. Chapter 14

**Sabretooth and others belong to Marvel, the rest are mine.**

**Comments welcome.**

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The house was quiet, everyone gone for the afternoon. Alex to work, Gren to finish his last exam of the term, and Freddy with momma to buy groceries. Papa was looking for him, but he would never find him in the cupboard of the extra side board that stood in one of the side halls on the main floor. It smelled like dust and old wood, but it was empty and Collier fit perfectly inside.

He needed to scratch his leg but for a moment thought he had heard a footstep and froze.

It had been a long time now. He was starting to worry that papa had given up or disappeared all together and Collier would be left in his hiding spot all night. Another light footstep creaked far away. He hugged his knees close to this chest, the corduroy of his pants rough against his cheek, his bladder starting to complain as his anxiety of trying to keep quiet rose.

One last, random footstep knocked on the wood floor right outside the cupboard and then silence. After what felt like an hour to a little boy, Collier finally, softly, poked the door open an inch, and then opened it wider. No one was standing there.

"Papa?" He asked quietly.

"Found you."

Collier turned upward so sharply in shock that he fell out of his hiding spot. His father was crouched like an animal on top of the sideboard, grinning down at him, his features looking not quite friendly, not quite sane.

Instinctively fear started to tremble in his little tummy. "I don't like this game anymore." He whimpered, adamant that his father's shadow had grown and was trying to close around him.

"Whaddya mean, this is fun, ain't it?" Creed's right leg extended to the ground then his left, and he hunkered over his son with a look of frustration.

"No, you're scaring me." A tear broke down his chubby pink face, still laying sprawled on the floor, afraid to move. Finally the spell was broken and Collier scrambled to his rubber soled sneakers and ran as fast as his little legs could to find his mother who wasn't home, thunderous noises following him as his father bounded after him like a tiger running down his prey.

"MOMMMMEEEEEEEE!" He shrieked with his arms open wide and pee running down his pant leg.

Creed had skidded to a halt once the screaming started and gracefully came to standing as he tried to suppress his animal instinct to hunt, and find his humanity. Collier was trying furiously to open the front door to escape.

"Kiddo..." Victor purred, approaching slowly. "C'mere."

Collier's screaming rose in pitch as he shook the door by the locked knob with his father creeping up behind him. Creed clenched and unclenched his fists, unsure of how to make the boy stop crying in any way he was unaccustomed to. He sat on the step of the sunken foyer and made a chirping noise like a cat.

"Son, c'mere."

Collier quieted slightly but didn't budge from the front door, instead watched cautiously from over his shoulder at the monster sitting feet away from him.

"You listen to your father. C'mere now. No more crying." Creed tried to remain patient but knew he was beginning to scowl and it was probably not conducive to gaining the boy's trust. Collier shook his head lightly, testing the situation.

"Come. Here."

The boy sank to the floor instead. Victor filtered the scent through is nose without even trying. His son had moved past instinctive fear and was now angry and embarrassed, with a hint of stubbornness. He was on the edge of a tantrum and Creed wasn't sure he would be able to negotiate his temper.

He stood and grabbed his son around the waist, picking him up under one arm, the torrent of wailing and flailing unleashed now. Without any reference to good parenting, Victor was up the creek without a paddle. He kicked in the door of the first bathroom he encountered on the second level of the mansion and felt a familiar wave of deja vu wash over him.

Collier, still screaming, his face turning red, was gently put down while his father went to a closet to retrieve a towel. The boy ran out of the washroom towards his own room, but didn't make it far. Victor grabbed the little wrist and as his son collapsed rag doll-like in the hall, he didn't hesitate to literally drag him back into the bathroom.

They struggled for a moment as Victor tried to get him undressed and Collier made it as difficult as possible by going rag doll one moment, and fighting tooth and nail the next. Finally Creed gave up and shredded the clothes with his claws. But with his son's wriggling, he nicked a spot on his side, causing it to bloom red with blood. This made Collier shriek.

Fed up, Creed inhaled deeply and roared over the boy, flashing his fangs, spittle snapping from his mouth. Collier lay quietly on the ground with his head cranked against the tub. "Stay there and stay quiet or I'll eat you!" Victor's fringe was already smoothing away with the vent of frustration. He opened the knobs to the tub and ran a lukewarm bath. In the meantime as the tub filled, he pulled Collier up to standing and had a good look at the scratch he had caused.

Thankfully, all it was was a scratch and was already mending, possibly with the help of an inherited healing factor gene or two. Creed reached over with his son still standing in his arms, and turned the water off. He used his head to butt Collier into turning around to face him and Victor nuzzled his son with his nose and rubbed against him with his neck. Collier, unbeknowst to his actions, nuzzled back and let himself he preened.

oooo

Emma found them after half an hour in the house. She stood in the door way of Collier's room as both her son and husband were snoring lightly on the tiny bed in each other's arms. Victor had scooped him up like he was the stuffed animal hanging from her own son's arms, and was breathing into Collier's neck, ruffling his light brown hair upon the exhale.

His eyes opened into slits, for half a second they were bright yellow before turning back to their normal green. Creed looked over at her, assessed the danger, then closed them again and faded back into napping.


	15. Chapter 15

**Sabretooth and others belong to Marvel, the rest are mine.**

**Comments welcome.**

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Blood. There was so much blood. Victor's head lolled back on his shoulders and he breathed deeply, completely relaxed in the den. He stood in an inch-thick pool of sanguine liquid, his fingers furling and unfurling, enjoying the thick, stickiness dribbling down his claws.

Two heartbeats firing like automatic rifles were hiding in an upstairs closet. One had a slight heart murmur. He was enjoying the carnage he had created too much to want to flush them out quite yet. Creed continued to stand there, tension running out of him like water.

Blood shed had become his new Glow. A Glow that he had complete control over. It was like an orgasm; not vital to life but he would go out of his way to get it. He was no longer dependent on the release to assuage his bloodlust like he had been with Birdy's mental blasts. No, killing was no longer the cause of his berserker rages, it was the nice glass of wine after the perfect dinner, it was the warm blanket to wrap yourself in against the chill of the brisk autumn night, it was a kiss in the pitch darkness that you could taste turn into a smile against your lips.

A deep inhale, and then Victor brushed his forearm against his forehead, wiping at a bead of rain that he had brought in with him through the back door. Thunder crashed again overhead and after a moment, lightening followed. The storm would be over his head in minutes and gone just as quickly.

There was scratching at the basement door.

Creed walked back into the kitchen and turned the stubborn brass knob. A West Highland White Terrier wheezed a bark out at him and wagged its tail unsure. The dog had been debarked. The basement smelled like piss, mould, and dog food. The round grate in the middle of the cement floor was damaged and rusted, the wooden stairs looked ready to collapse.

The dog hesitated then leaped up the to the kitchen floor and trotted back to the den. Victor followed and watched as the dog began to lap at the blood soaking the carpet, its paws turning pink as flecks splashed up over its face.

Slowly, he walked to the end of the staircase leading upstairs. Each step creaked heavily as he mounted them. Heavy breathing was accompanying the heartbeats, and what sounded like shivering and teeth chattering.

He loved creaking floor boards. His footsteps were silent, but the house would tell them all where he was. It wasn't a closet where they hid, waiting to die. It was the guest bathroom. The door was locked but he continued to turn the knob, his strength causing the wood to splinter and finally, the cheap knob bent on its screws and hung uselessly from the hole. The door swung open slowly on it's own accord and inside, Creed found two live bodies huddled together in the bathtub.

oooo

"Where's papa?" Collier pushed his dinner around on his plate with a plastic fork, his little feet kicking under the table absently and grains of salt occasionally falling from nowhere as he blinked.

"At work." Emma murmured, her own fork dangling from her hand as she read a letter from the stack of mail on her end of the table.

"What does he do exactly?" Freddy raised an eyebrow, his broken bones, scrapes, and bruises healed and his attitude fully intact.

"He's a bill collector." She responded absently as the rest of the table ate dinner quietly.


	16. Chapter 16

**Sabretooth and others belong to Marvel, the rest are mine.**

**Comments welcome.**

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The heartbeats coming from inside were welcoming. Creed turned the knob from the garage into the foyer and entered into the darkness. The lights were off and the house was asleep, save for two.

The kitchen door yielded silently and at the island on a stool sat Gren with his back to the door. He was in sweats with his boxer briefs peeking from underneath, and a white t-shirt. The fridge door closed and from behind it appeared Freddy with a handful of eggs and a carton of milk. His green plaid flannel pants sagged from a worn out waist band and his grey t-shirt was ripped at the lower hem. Neither acknowledged hearing him enter.

"How many eggs have you gone through now?" Gren grabbed a slice of cheese from a cutting board off to his left and bit down.

"Dunno, three?" Freddy spent approximately 12 seconds trying to get the new eggs to stay put on the counter top.

"And what are you making?" He continued to munch on the cheese.

Freddy huffed and frowned, put his hands on his hips but quickly returned to shepherding the eggs when they began to roll away again. "I don't know." He admitted, opening the fridge and putting the eggs back in.

"You never answered my question."

"Which one was that?" The door was shut roughly, making something on top of it tinkle against something else.

"Did you apply to that college yet?" Gren grabbed a second crumb of cheese and gnawed gently.

Freddy didn't answer, which as Gren knew was an answer in itself. "Why don't you take some computer courses or something? What about an English degree? You like to write..."

"I don't like to write, you like to write, you pompous ass. Just because you're going to school doesn't mean I have to, okay? I didn't like class in high school, I can't imagine I'll enjoy paying for classes now, for years of my life."

"I'm just trying..."

"...take care of me. I don't need you to take care of me. I'm an adult..."

"...then act like it! Get a goddamn job, smarten up..."

"...don't tell me what to do!"

"Inside voices, please." Creed finally made his presence known. How the two had not been able to see his hulking figure only feet from them was a testament to how intensely they were arguing.

They both turned to him, two pairs of blue eyes stared, one sparked with a bit of fear, the other, belligerence.

"I'm going to bed." Gren stood up, but as Victor approached the island, he put a hand on his shoulder and forcibly pushed him back down.

"No you're not. Keep eating, you're too goddamn skinny." Like his brother, Gren was built like a football player, but over the course of the year had managed to drop weight from malnutrition, making him look rather sickly. Creed was determined to put meat back on to the boy's bones, no son of his, real or adopted, would look like a scrawny runt. "Now what's going on?"

"Nothing." Freddy muttered, pushing a paring knife back and forth on the cutting board.

"Yuh-huh." Silence sat heavily around them until finally Creed sent Gren upstairs to get some sleep. Freddy was cornered in the kitchen with him. "Listen you little brat, you ain't free-loading in this house. You got three options; go to school, get a job, or move out."

"You suck at this." Freddy glared at him from up against the far counter with his arms braced on the edges.

"At what?" Victor grunted.

"At being a dad."

"Is that what I'm doing?" He arched a blond eyebrow.

"Sounds like it." The boy pushed away and began cleaning up the mess he had made, hearing the threat dissipate from the other's voice. "You and Gren both suck at it. I don't need a dad."

"So other than a swift kick in the ass, what do you need?"

Freddy didn't answer. Couldn't answer. Victor tapped his claws against the marble topped island then pushed himself upright. "Going to bed, don't make any noise when you head upstairs. And Freddy?" There was a pause as he pushed the kitchen door open. "You think of something, you come find me."


	17. Chapter 17

**Sabretooth and others belong to Marvel, the rest are mine.**

**Comments welcome.**

* * *

Creed stood at the foot of the bed. He had shouted from the foot of the stair, he had stomped up them, he had knocked heavy-handed on the door, all without response. Now he stood at the foot of the bed, staring down at the figure who, for all intent and purpose, appeared dead to the world.

"GREN!"

The prone figure took in a deep breath and his blue eyes fluttered open softly, as though waking naturally from a nap. Gren's blond head turned slowly to the hulk standing in his room snorting through his nose like an angered bull. He blinked unfocused and his head hit the pillow again, beginning to snore.

Creed blinked in surprise. No one had ever taken a look at him and fallen back asleep. Ever.

He approached the bed and gave what he considered to be a soft slap to the young man's cheek. It got him a snort and Gren woke up for a second time. "Whut." It was not exactly a question and it was followed by a long cat-like stretch, his toes splayed out and his fingers reaching in the opposite direction, and a yawn.

"Thought you mighta been concussed, you couldn't stay awake." Creed murmured, eyeing the kid suspiciously.

"When would I have gotten a concussion?" Gren rolled onto his stomach and started to wrap himself around a pillow, prepared to sleep once again.

"Get up!" Victor finally grabbed him around the waist and pulled him from the bed. It was awkward, both men being above six-foot, and one in his underwear. Regardless, Gren was now awake.

"What is it?" He pulled away and grabbed a t-shirt to distance himself Creed.

"Your idiot brother is gone."

ooooo

The new morning light streamed through the slats of the kitchen windows, dust drifting around as Emma poured orange juice and brought a box of cereal to the table for Alex and Gren.

"Can't you just go get him?" Emma said quietly.

"I could, but do you really want me to be alone with him when I find him?" Victor growled and poured the kettle water into his mug and steeped his bag of tea.

"Is this even something we need to be worrying about?" She turned to the two brothers at the table, trying to wake up from the rude morning hour.

"I don't think so, we come and go as we please usually." Gren sniffed the milk before pouring it into his cereal.

"Did he come home last night?" Alex took the offered milk carton from his brother and used it on his own sugary oats.

"I didn't know he had left." Emma murmured and leaned her back against the kitchen island, one had wrapped around her and her red cardigan while the other raised her own mug to her lips to test the heat of the water. After a moment, she looked over her shoulder at Creed who stood by the sink.

With a sigh he confirmed that Freddy had snuck out around midnight and walked off the premise. After that, the kid had ceased to be his concern.

In their pyjamas they ate in silence.

ooooo

This had been a lie.

Creed had followed Freddy off the property. He stalked him all the way into downtown Vancouver, which had been quite a long walk. The trip then took some banal stops for a soda here, a cupcake there. Finally the wending stroll took them into East Hastings, an area that tourists were told to avoid if possible.

Freddy ran up the short flight of steps and rang a buzzer. After no reply, he leaned on the buzzer until someone responded and the front door permit him entrance. Creed waited outside, listening to the voices wafting from the three storey brick apartment, the smell of alcohol and pot and chemicals ever-present.

Pulling out a cigarette from his jacket, he tried to get his lighter to work to no avail. He grunted and chucked it down the alley then stepped out from the shadows, startling a passer-by. He asked for a light. The man shook his head but the girl found a lighter in her bag and flicked it on for him. Grunting a thank you, he disappeared back into the shadows and waited.

He could hear Freddy inside, feel his heart beat slightly faster than usual. The kid accepted a long pull from a joint, but declined anything else, but Creed could tell he was thinking really hard about it from the tone of his voice.

After forty-five minutes of listening to idiotic banter, and some smart ass remarks about himself, Creed stubbed out his last cigarette on the brick and left the alleyway to returned home.

ooooo

Emma was staring at him from across the den. He had melded his body into the soft, overstuffed couch, feet up on the ottoman, remote in hand with Die Hard playing on the enormous flat screen television mounted to the wall. He ignored her intently but there was no where in his house he could hide from her.

"I'm going out." She finally pushed herself away from leaning against the arched doorway, but she did not quite leave.

Victor raised his right arm to acknowledge and bid farewell, then dropped it back down onto a pillow he was gripping at his side, creating a fluffy heaven for himself.

Emma rolled her eyes and swiftly mounted the carpeted stairs out of the den and back into the main floor of the house. The den had been marketed as 'sunken', just like the tub room. Not quite the main level and not quite the basement. It had been a stupid decision on the part of the builder, but the room was immense and was outfitted with several lush chairs and couches, mostly unused because Sabretooth was not one to host company.

If it had not been for his super hearing, he would not have been able to hear her stomp across the library, the living room, down the long hallway where the music room, the study, and his office connected. The very well insulated room could not prevent him from hearing her huff passive-aggressively, stuff her feet into her shoes, wrestle with her car keys, and stand waiting at the garage door for her temper to simmer down.

Creed chuckled to himself and turned up the volume.

ooooo

She finally pulled onto their street three hours later, without any hint of Freddy. Maybe he had wandered back home.

Kicking her shoes off at the door, she deposited her keys on the entrance table in a little porcelain bowl of leaves. The house was silent.

What she wouldn't give for Victor's sense of smell at a time like this, instead of hunting through the entire house to find anyone. The last place she left him would be the best place to look first.

The carpeted stairs muffled her soft footsteps. The light was turned off now and three faces were splashed with the glow of the television as Die Hard 2 played. Was she the only one who cared that Freddy was not at home?

Alex lifted a can of cola to his lips slowly, unblinking at the screen to Victor's right on the couch. Gren was wrapped in a blanket and sitting in a recliner chair to the left of him. _They could be blood related_, she thought.

"I couldn't find him."

Alex started to say something but trailed off mid-sentence, attention fully on the movie.

"Victor Creed, if you want dinner tonight, get your ass off that couch and go find your son." Emma threatened quietly.

Creed pointed to the couch in between himself and Alex, where Collier lay dozing under a blanket, hippo clutched to his chest and thumb half an inch away from his open mouth. "Found him."

The lights were turned on, the television switched off, and Emma stood over him as threatening as she could be. Intimidated he was not, but his rabbit was worried and it was no longer entertaining to him.

"Does this mean I can call you dad?" Alex asked only half teasingly.

"Do you want to sleep on the lawn tonight?" Victor arched an eyebrow.


	18. Chapter 18

**Sabretooth and others belong to Marvel, the rest are mine.**

**Comments welcome.**

* * *

He may have grumbled outwardly, but Creed was amped up for the hunt. The wind cut through his thin jacket as he hopped over a chain link fence in a back alley, then vaulted over a parked car. His boots hit the wet pavement with a soft thump and he crouched to sniff the air.

Victor could have started at the apartment where he tracked Freddy down the night before, but being cooped up at home and mother hening the boys left him itching for the exercise in tracking.

A feral cat hissed at him from a damp cardboard box and he growled back, scaring it away. Creed separated out sounds and smells as quickly and simply as sorting change. His interest was piqued by the scent of old blood on the air coming from the west.

The trail became stronger as he criss-crossed the city towards its origin, on the way passing the apartment Freddy had last been. Now it was decorated with bright yellow tape claiming 'police line, do not cross'. Several police officers and some forensic investigators milled outside the building with coffee.

Creed didn't smell Freddy in the air, but the light rain that began was slowly washing away any scent as time passed. The moon was starting to dominate the sky but clouds still slinked past creating pitch dark on occasion. Creed was approaching a familiar area and a heartbeat was near. He remembered this place - this was where he had first run into the boys while hunting for his wife not so long ago. This was the restaurant where he had shared fries with Alex.

He cleared the dilapidated wooden fence with a quick leap and crossed the parking lot with long, silent strides to the corner of the dark diner. The lights were out, uncommon for this time of night especially so late in the week. The space lead him to believe the restaurant was on the verge of closing its door forever, as run down as it was.

The heartbeat grew louder and was accompanied with the shivers. Teeth chattered from the heap of a figure huddled next to the wall of the diner in the back, away from the main street.

Creed stepped out from the shadows but stood menacingly with his hands in his pockets until he was noticed. Freddy felt eyes on him and he slowly peeked over his arms that were wrapped around his knees. His body was shaking from shock. He was covered in blood.

Upon seeing the other, Freddy fell out of his tight huddle and clumsily rushed to his feet, bolting into Creed's chest, and crushing himself into the older man, the top of his head bumping into Creed's chin. The boy started to sob, making Victor horribly uncomfortable.

A sniff told him the blood was not Freddy's.

After a moment of hesitation, Victor clapped a hand on the boy's back, then again. Freddy was still shaking but clearly relieved to have been found by someone he considered safe. A wet spot was forming on Creed's t-shirt from where Freddy's face was crushed against his shoulder, skewing his jacket aside.

And then something in Victor clicked. It was almost an audible pop. Safe, Freddy felt _safe_ with him. He couldn't get the kid off of him with a crowbar. Creed could feel the possessiveness unfurl along his veins. Freddy was family now, _his_ family. He began to feel relieved himself for finding the boy in one piece and wanted to take him home to reconcile with Emma.

To break the tension, he said, "Not so tough when you're covered in blood, huh?"

"Shut up." Freddy mumbled into his shoulder.

"Are you hurt?" Creed pulled the boy off of him to get a look at the blood splatter across his chest and legs and face.

"No." Freddy dragged his palm over his eyes, trying to compose himself again.

Creed pulled his coat off and draped it over Freddy's shoulders, then pushed him forward towards the street to look for a cab.

"Should I have to go to the police?"

"Why?" Creed muttered irritably, trying to recover from the reeling feeling of familial protectiveness that had overcome him.

"I ran from a crime scene" Freddy pulled his shirt out a bit and looked at the delicate blood splatter.

"Did you do it?" A cab finally pulled up alongside the curb and Creed held the door open for the younger man.

"No - but I was a witness. I-I saw a guy die, saw my friend die." Freddy breathed out and wrapped Victor's jacket closer around him.

"Get in."

Freddy hesitated with his mouth slightly open. Victor reached out and grabbed his bicep to force him into the cab. Slamming the door, he walked to the other side of the car and set his weight down on the seat. The cabbie waited silently, staring into the rearview mirror waiting for directions.

Creed rubbed his eyes and sighed. "Nearest police station."

ooooo

Freddy was no mastermind, and the cops were pretty on the ball in his city, so Creed didn't see the point in taking a risk and having them swarm his house in search of Freddy when they quickly pieced together that the kid had been at the shooting in East Hastings.

Victor nursed a cup of vending machine coffee in the waiting area while the desk clerk watched him.

"What, Jerry?" He snapped.

"Just never seen you on this side of the station before." The cop teased. Jerry was tolerable enough at least, not full of himself like some of his coworkers.

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it." Creed smirked and took a sip. Some police officers could be real nasty to him, knowing who he was, but very occasionally, a guy like Jerry would pop up. Creed had never started problems in his own city, he liked having peace and quiet on his own turf. It was a matter of not shitting where you eat.

Jerry took him at face value; parking tickets, disturbing the peace, property damage, self defense cases, generally minor issues. He was also aware of the charity work Emma was known to do around the city, sometimes even dragging Creed along if the task needed labour like planting trees, roofing orphanages, and building homes for the homeless, as well as donating large sums of money to local organizations in his name. Still, because of his reputation, he wasn't expecting an invitation to the policeman's ball...though he had received one for the fireman's ball the year before.

Freddy was still in interrogation, it had been nearly an hour. Finally, the door opened and detectives escorted Freddy to the desk to sign some paperwork before releasing him. Detective O'Mara eyed Creed but remained mute.

Slowly they made their way out of the station to find a new cab home. "Let's not speak about any of this to Emma." Creed grunted. "If she asks, you were sitting in Starbucks all day and then went to a club with your idiot friends for the night."

The cab ride back to the estate was silent. They were dropped off before the gates, and Victor was just punching in the code to let them in, and disarm the security system, when he realised Freddy couldn't just waltz back into the house in the clothes he wore.

Creed grabbed Freddy's wrist and pulled him around back to avoid Emma seeing Freddy's blood soaked clothes.

Despite quiet protest, Creed threw Freddy over his back like a rucksack, and jumped up onto one of the lower roofs, scaling along until he was able to grab hold of a balcony, and then pull them both up. They were on the third floor. Creed disentangled Freddy's arms, which were choking him unintentionally, and traced his claws around the edge of the door, found whatever it was he was looking for, and managed to unlock and slide the balcony door open, permitting them entrance into one of the empty bedrooms in the North end of the house.

Freddy locked the door behind them and followed Victor to the doorway. Creed led them brazenly down the main staircase to the second floor then escorted Freddy to his room, shutting the door behind them both.

"Change." Victor folded his arms menacingly.

"Could you not stare at my while I get undressed?" Freddy pulled an arm out of Victor's jacket.

Creed snorted out his nose and went to look out the window into the back yard. The tension in their silence was palpable.

"Mr. Creed?" Freddy said quietly, pulling a clean shirt over his head. Creed turned from the window and glared at him. "I want to go to school to be a chef."

They stared at each other uneasily.

"You said when I figured it out, what I want to do with myself, to come find you." Freddy continued when the silence was unbearable. Creed nodded in assent but didn't reply. "You gonna say something?"

"Go give your mother a kiss, she's been worried sick about you."


	19. Chapter 19

**Sabretooth and others belong to Marvel, the rest are mine.**

**Comments welcome.**

**This chapter was completely re-written and reposted. Sorry for any confusion.**

* * *

They were curled against each other, spooning. Victor's hot breath blew into the back of her black hair.

"What are we going to do with Freddy?" She mumbled while stroking a long, pale finger down one of his hard knuckles.

Admittedly he had felt a bond form with the kid briefly that evening, but as far as he was concerned the answer was to disassociate themselves from him. In the interest of making peace and playing nice, he replied, "He mentioned wanting to go to school to be a chef."

Her fingers traced circles on his forearms while she contemplated to motions were maddening so he pulled free and ran his hand up her bare thigh and underneath her lace camisole to rest on her flat stomach.

"Little pig, little pig." He cooed, using his hips to bounce her slightly, asking permission to be let in.

"Not tonight." Emma breathed quietly and melted into her pillow.

"Don't deny me." He pulled her over by the shoulder to lay on her back while he loomed above her resting on his right forearm.

"Don't force me." She retorted softly. She did not want to invite a screaming match between them, but she just didn't feel amorous with him lately. The phantom of his relationship with another woman was constantly the elephant in the room when they went to bed.

Creed's claws unsheathed and he began to draw circles over her stomach, leaving little red paths in their wake. Slowly his hand moved upwards and he cupped her breast in his palm. He ran the pad of his thumb across her nipple as it responded, and lay a soft kiss onto the skin.

Emma let him continue, and stroked his hair, long now after only a few weeks from his last cut. She was really just exhausted, and frankly sicked at his infidelity, but this attention was nice and all too rare.

Purring erupted from his chest and his tongue darted out to lick her skin. Her hand moved from his head and rested on his bare shoulder. Victor stopped and looked up at her. She looked conflicted.

"I think we should talk"

"I don't want to talk about Freddy right now." He responded with her breast in his mouth.

"About us." Emma tried to suppress a gasp.

"I don't want to talk about us right now either." Victor's fingers trailed down her side and rounded on her bum, but then he stopped, released her, and rolled onto his back. "Listen, it's all in the past, you'll gradually get over it. You and I are stuck together babe, you ain't leaving me."

Emma sat up and covered herself with the sheet. "Why did you do that to me?" The echoes of their fight in the kitchen nights ago still resided far too close to her surface. _You wanna know somethin' sweetheart? Do ya? I actually fuckin' LOVED her! She meant the world t'me! I wanted to stay shacked up in Berlin with her fer the rest of my life instead o' coming back home t'you, you crazy fucking BITCH! Had I known she had a son, I woulda left yer ass in a heartbeat!_

Creed paused, his mind filtering through all the things he's done to his wife over the last week, month, decades. "Which particular thing are we talking about?" He replied exhausted.

Emma slipped out of bed and pulled on her nightgown.

"Aw, darlin', can't we just have a nice night together?" He sat up and tried to grab for her.

"Can you stop doing stupid shit to ruin our relationship?" Emma pulled away from him but didn't leave the room. "I had to wait three years to confront you about your infidelity, and then not only do you tell me you were living together with your whore, but you _loved _her - more than me!" She wiped the tears that were beginning to stream down her face, angry that they were there.

"Why do you always have to ruin the mood?" Victor pushed himself off the bed and found his own pyjama bottoms, kicking his legs through the holes and hiking them up to his waist. He walked to the bedroom door and opened it forcibly. He stomped down the stairs and headed to the library.

She slumped back on the bed, trying to sort out her feelings and what she wanted from her husband as amends for his cruelty, and what she could reasonably expect. It only left her in tears.

After a silent hour, Emma slipped down the stairs to look for Victor. She found him slouched in a chair with his elbows propped up on the arms of the chair, holding a book up to eye level.

'I don't want to talk about it." The book didn't budge from in front of his face. "I just want to be a big happy family, where the most pressing concern is what to make for dinner or the cat got out again. I want normal, why does everything have to be so damn hard?" The book fell to the ground.

"Victor you don't take anyone into account except you. All you want is to get away with any sort of behaviour without repercussion. Did you ever think at any point with this woman - any woman, 'Hmm, my _wife_ would be hurt and upset if she knew I was doing this'?"

Creed's fist clenched and blood seeped out where his claws cut into his flesh. "So what do you want? My heart?" He began tearing into his chest with his razor-claws, but Emma managed to stop him before he dig more than an inch into his flesh and muscle.

"Stop it, you're acting like a child." She slapped his face. They glared at each other for a moment and then Emma pulled her nightgown over her head and used it to staunch the blood flow before it dripped on the chair and carpet. "I just need you to respect me. I need you to honour me. You promised to love me and me alone. I want your fidelity. That shouldn't be so damn difficult Victor."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He pushed her back and stood over her with a growl.

"I'm not asking you to castrate yourself!" She bared her teeth at him.

"You're trying to control me! I will do whatever I damn well please, and you'll shut your damn mouth and take it!"

She stared at him in anger. "Fine. Get out."

"What?" Creed narrowed his eyes.

"Get out. Get out of this house. Out." Her voice was firm and very calm.

"This is my house..."

"Technically, it's not. It's _my_ house, under _my _name. Remember? Do you remember you had me sign for the whole estate under my name? Get your things, and get off my property."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He asked a second time.

"Do I look like I'm joking?"

Unable to handle both his wife's anger and his mounting desire to kill her, Creed stomped down the long hall of his mansion and flung open front doors into the night and didn't look back.


	20. Chapter 20

**Sabretooth and others belong to Marvel, the rest are mine.**

**Comments welcome.**

* * *

No one had heard from Victor Creed in two months, but Emma had ways of tracking him. Bank charges told her he was flying around the world for scraps of time, always on the move. Their shared bank account was accumulating money at an alarming rate. Victor was working his ass off. And yet still no communication.

When Alex asked the next morning where Mister Creed had gone, she regrettably snapped at him that _Mister Creed_ had left indefinitely.

This confused Collier greatly. When he arrived home from daycare every afternoon, he would eat his lunch with his mother, then create new crayon drawings of him and his father on all sorts of adventures. He would then plaster them on the walls of his bedroom.

"I miss papa." He cried one night while she tried to put him to bed. "I want papa!" His shrill voice demanded.

"I know you do, button. But he's not here tonight." She kissed the top of his head and said goodnight, but his tantrum was brewing. Emma closed the door to his room to let him burn himself out.

Gren was still away in Ottawa interviewing for an internship position. He had not received many requests for interviews despite applying broadly. Thankfully one firm from Vancouver had called him in the week before. Gren left the interview feeling positive but had to wait to find out if he had matched for another two weeks.

Currently he had called home and was on the phone to Alex, who was unlike his cheerful self. The police academy had turned down his application midway through the process, which was common. It should have given him a few rough days before wanting to try harder for the next selection process, but the rejection had really worn down his self confidence.

"No, nothing yet." Alex murmured into the phone. He caught Emma's eye as she descended the staircase then looked away guiltily. They had been talking about Victor.

He sat with his back to her on a wooden stool where an old corded rotary phone sat on a small shelf. Emma passed him and squeezed his shoulder supportively before moving on down to the living room where she had left Collier's toys scattered on the floor, and her own mystery novel face opened and down on the coffee table.

Freddy looked up briefly from the opposite couch as Emma took up her place again near the fire place. He twirled a pencil absently and returned to reading the program materials for the culinary institute who sent him information in the mail that day.

ooooo

His homebase, for the time being, was New York. Creed threw his coat over the back of his couch and kicked his boots off. The flight from Taiwan was killer and he just wanted sleep. As he walked to the bedroom in the back of the apartment, he stripped layers from his body and left them in piles on the floor. Finally he collapsed onto his stomach in the unmade bed and stripped his white boxer briefs off like a blind man.

He had been celibate for almost two months. The moment he left the mansion after his wife demanded monogamy or GTFO, he drove down to Seattle and hit up a brothel he frequently stayed in when work required him there. He had some safehouses dotted around the world, but if he could, he stayed in cathouses. The food was decent, and the girls didn't complain.

He went through every girl in the place, some of them more than once, in a matter of three days. Twice he had accidentally called out Emma's name in heat. The fourth day he lay in bed depressed. The fifth he ate in the dining room with the girls, but largely ignored them, then went to the sunroom and read a book one of the girls had lent him. By the end of the week, the mistress of the house finally approached him and gave him his bill.

"You saying I've overstayed my welcome?" He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Not at all, but I've been working here long enough to know when a man is running away from something." The mistress, Belle, gave him a sly grin and sat next to him on a chaise. "You don't seem the running type, Victor."

Finally, Creed had called The Disco, an international company he used on occasion to catch some business when things were dry, for a commission of course. After three quick and successful jobs, they began to call him with offers.

Nearly two months later, he was back in his apartment. "Collier" He muttered into his pillow, not bothering to make himself sensibly comfortable. The mirror from Brazil shifted like sand and suddenly he could see his son sitting on the wood floor playing with his toys and building a lopsided tower. Collier played silently within the frame of the mirror, pulling colourful bricks apart and putting them back together, Bobo sitting at his side.

The boy was sitting outside the kitchen and he could catch glimpses of Emma's thin, bare ankles as she danced around the kitchen. He felt a pulse in his dick inappropriately at the thought of his wife. He groaned in exhaustion and closed his eyes against the mirror. The image of his son disappeared and his reflection returned. He looked haggard, and pathetic. Creed narrowed his eyes at himself and flipped the bird at the mirror.

Rolling onto his back, his hand found his cock. He softly ran his fingers up its length but was too tired to do much else. His hand flopped back down across the bed and sometime in the next ten minutes began snoring, naked as the day he was born and splayed out over the bed.

He woke up to screaming. He hated his cleaning lady.

"Shut the fuck up!" He shouted at the woman covering her face and huddling in his doorway. She quieted but held her eyes closed.

"Please don't hurt me!" The middle aged woman cried, her hand bunching in her apron.

Victor took a pillow from the bed and used it to cover himself, then slid off the foot of the bed and slammed the bedroom door shut on her.

Checking the clock, he noted that he had only gotten an hour of sleep. His time zones were all screwed up, he had made it back to the apartment at 7am, not 7pm.

"This fucking sucks." Victor muttered into the pillow as he flopped back down in bed.

ooooo

Bobo was in the wash. It had taken everything she had to extricate the stuffed hippopotamus from Collier's death grip and not wake him from his nap. Emma leaned forward on the washing machine with her elbows and washed her face with her hands and self-pity.

She had recently tracked Victor to New York and was tempted, very tempted, to call the apartment number and tell him to get out of _her_ apartment as well.

Gren interrupted her by coming to a stop outside the laundry room. "You want to get out of the house for the night? I can watch Collie."

"That is the sweetest thing anyone has ever said to me." She murmured and pushed herself back up to standing.

Gren had only been gone for a week but his absence had been felt strongly by her. Between Freddy and his biting sarcasm, and Alex's new dejected mood, she was deeply in need of someone more cheerful to interact with.

"It's the least I can do." He smiled.

Emma spent the rest of the afternoon picking up the house. She found herself in Victor's study dusting and emptying the ashtrays, and started to poke around. The room was a study of Victor, it was his private seclusion from not only the world, but from her as well, and she could respect his desire for privacy. Emma straightened pictures on the wall and trinkets on the shelves, knocked cigarette butts into the trashcan, then the trashcan into a garbage bag. She wiped down his desk with a damp cloth and pushed his office chair in. Noticing a framed photo of the two of them together on the corner of his desk made her smile.

Flicking off the light, she went to take out the trash and start dinner. She found Freddy already in the fridge when she made it through the swinging kitchen door.

"Can I help?" Emma offered, sitting down at the island on a stool.

Freddy took a moment to respond while he evaluated the shelves. "Yeah." He stroked his chin thoughtfully but didn't move.

She waited for him to decide instead of prompting him. Finally, Freddy pulled out some ingredients and went to the cupboards for couscous. He assigned her the onerous task of chopping shallots and parsley while he put chicken stock on to boil.

"How's Alex doing?" Emma chopped softly, trying to avoid the shallot that was making her eyes tear up.

"He's still glum but he'll bounce back soon enough. I think he just needs a kick in the ass." Freddy tapped a wooden spoon on the side of the pan while he spoke. "It's a shame the ass-kicker of the house is out."

Emma narrowed her eyes. "What does that mean?"

Freddy waved a hand up, his tattoos rippling across the skin. "Nothing, I just mean Creed isn't here to sort him out like he normally would."

She sighed through her nose but dismissed Freddy's comment. Instead she went to the house's intercom system and demanded that Alex get up and come to the kitchen to help prepare dinner. Immediately. She returned to the island to continue chopping, glaring at the other.

"Who needs him."

ooooo

He was getting sick of hotel rooms. No matter how well they cleaned, the place always smelled like semen and disinfectant. He sometimes rolled up toilet paper thinly and shoved it up his nose, but it was uncomfortable, and really didn't help enough to bother with it.

Tomorrow he would be flying out to Oklahoma for business, but for now he had to endure South Dakota. At least he was hard pressed to find a woman that could turn his head here. Vegas had been different, and challenged his abstinence every damn minute. His sexual frustration just meant that he was a bit more extravagant in his killing methods, and he was taking sweet pleasure from drawing out his target's death, torturing them unnecessarily, catching and releasing them like a cat playing with a mouse, only to catch them again and going in for the kill.

He had decorated one poor suckers apartment with his own entrails. Another woman had to endure hours of him making small, sharp incisions all along her body before he was ready to end her life. The third had been an older gentleman who, for obvious wheelchair-bound reasons, did not put up much fight. Creed simply twisted the man's head sharply in one direction and left, feeling cheated that a monkey could have done this particular hit.

But now he was in South Dakota, staring at his ceiling absently.

"Birdy?" Victor called out into the room, knowing full and well his former assistant was long dead.

_Yeah boss?_ The echoes of her personality still rambled around in his head in quiet moments like these - moments where he was most vulnerable.

"What do I do?"

_Well, you got the moping around like a sad sack thing down pretty good._ A door slammed downwhere down the hall. Creed frowned but didn't respond, but Birdy didn't continue either. If his own subconsciousness didn't have an answer, neither did Birdy.

Creed pressed his fingertips to his temples, screwed up his face, and concentrated. "If I was a normal human being, what the fuck would I do?"

_You probably wouldn't give up the woman you seem to like enough to keep alive over your pride._ Birdy's voice resonated back to him.

"It's not pride." He argued to himself.

Birdy did not respond.

Frustrated, he sat up and went to the washroom, balled up two corks of tissue paper, shoved them up his nose, then went to bed.

_You're an idiot._ Was Birdy's final advice to him as he wrapped the covers over his large frame.

ooooo

In the last few weeks, Emma had been able to spend one-on-one time with each of her boys while getting out of the house and exploring the city. She and Alex had visited Stanley Park, gone to Granville Island, and saw a few movies together, with Gren they had visited the science museum, the art gallery, and two concerts in small scale venues. She took Collier to some children's activities around the city, different ice cream shops, and even saw the Wiggles in concert. Emma hated the Wiggles, but her son had a great time.

Her outings with Freddy had been some of the most enjoyable however, because they shared something in common - good food and good wine. They had been to a few local breweries for tours and tastings, and had even gone out to dinner to a few of the upscale restaurants in the city. The reservations had not been easy to come by, but her name did carry some weight around town.

She had missed getting dressed up and spending time in more...refined company. Tonight she would resolve that by freeing her nicer dresses from the back of the closet, doing her hair, and going out to a lounge somewhere to have rich, drunk men by her drinks and flirt with her. She missed the feeling of being desirable, beautiful, wanted.

Emma stood in front of the bed in her shift and tried to decide which cut and colour would suit her best tonight. Her sequined red dress was a bit too desparate, and by the looks of it, Victor had torn through it the last time she had worn it. The sapphire blue with the plunging neckline was pleasant, but the hem was too long to suit her feisty mood. Unsatisfied with her other choices, Emma went back into the closet and pulled out a trusted strapless green dress that stopped mid thigh and wasn't excessively eye catching. It was her favourite and Victor hadn't ripped it to bits yet because he could either push up the hem or push down the neckline and have access to her. Also because she screamed like a banshee when he _had _tried to tear it.

The green dress slipped on quietly and the zipper hid itself between the fabric under her left arm. Emma touched up her lipstick then dabbed on some French perfume under her ears and dotted it along her breasts as well, which pushed up from the top of the dress.

She grabbed her black clutch and slipped on her heels, heading downstairs where the boys were waiting to send her off.

"Um..." Gren gawked at her attire.

"I thought you were going out by yourself tonight." Alex blushed, trying to keep his eyes on her face.

"I am, I just wanted to dress up." Emma lifted her chin defiantly.

"Wow." Freddy walked out of the kitchen and down the hall with an apple part way to his mouth. "Wow."

"Yeah, we already covered that." Gren reprimanded his brother.

"Where are you even going wearing that?" Freddy continued unabated.

"Drinks. Birdy and I used to go to this nice lounge downtown that's part of a restaurant for people with too much money, and we'd let the men buy us drinks. Then we'd come home and laugh about them." Emma fiddled with her purse.

"Cruel." Freddy rolled his eyes and finally took a bite.

ooooo

He couldn't find a laundromat to save his life. His duffel was full of dirty clothes and nowhere to have them washed. The hotel he was currently staying in didn't have laundry facilities either, so after checking in, he drove himself to the nearest everything mart and went to look for something to wear for the next few days.

It was so crowded, being that it seemed to be one of the only three things you could do in this particular town other than drink or see a flick. Creed waded through people and navigated through clothing racks in the women's department just to break free from the crowded aisles. As with many stores of this sort, the safe haven from people was the men's department, hiding in a back corner with two guys comparing different shades of black on the socks they were looking to buy. Near silence.

Their summer clothes were already out and a hawaiian button up t-shirt screamed at him from one of the nearby racks. He chose one in warm reds and pinks in his size and went to look for shorts.

This was why he couldn't be trusted to dress himself. Emma had recently purged the closet of his heinous purchases after he brought home a full length fur coat...for himself. She had lived through the white polyester suits, the floral dress shirts, and even the leather pants, but apparently fur was the last straw.

Creed liked that she bought him clothes - save for his suits, he trusted his tailor more than he trusted anyone. But he secretly enjoyed the thought of Emma shopping for his underwear, or picking out a shirt with him in mind. Some days he simply enjoyed being taken care of, and who better to do that than his wife?

He stood in the aisle next to another man while they both stared at the photos of nearly naked men posing in underwear, trying to figure out which styles and colours they wanted. Creed couldn't find the sort Emma bought for him. He had no idea what brand they even were. Patience wearing thin, he grabbed the package closest to him which, thankfully, were boxer briefs, and left.

ooooo

Vancouver was raining again, but Emma was able to watch it from a high rise that looked out over the city. She sat at the bar on a soft stool and quietly emptied the glass of champagne the older gentleman on her right had bought her, listening uninterestedly to his tale being whispered in her ear. She was leaning back against the bar, propped up on her left elbow while watching the dark clouds pass over the rising moon, laughing at the appropriate times as the man continued to talk to her.

Finally her champagne ran dry and she placed her glass on the dark marble of the bar. The gentleman motioned towards the bartender for a refill, but Emma smiled and shook her head. "Thank you, no." She was bored with him.

The room gasped as an arch of lightning danced over the city.

"Beautiful evening." He murmured, his pinky traced down her forearm to her hand resting on the bar.

"Indeed." Emma nodded, the alcohol loosening her tight neck muscles.

"Would you, perhaps, like to go somewhere more private and continue our conversation?" He groomed his white mustache with his thumb and forefinger and watched her with the clearest blue eyes.

Emma had never been more bored with an individual as she was with this one, the evening seemed to be a dud for flirting. Before she could answer, the bartender, in his vest and tie, moved a glass of Chablis on a clean white napkin across the bar to her.

"Courtesy of the gentleman at the bar." He nodded to the far end and left.

Emma lifted her glass and prepared her most smoldering glance for the mystery gentleman, when she realised that Victor sat with his own glass half raised in her direction.

"I'm sorry," Emma turned to the gentleman who had previously plied her with alcohol. "My husband has arrived." She snapped her clutch shut, delicately picked up her glass, and moved off her stool to join Victor.

"Hey." He grunted, avoiding eye contact with her.

"Where did you come from?" Emma adjusted her dress on the stool next to his.

"Flew in this afternoon, picked up a suit at home." He was in a black fitted suit with a three button jacket, silver cufflinks, and a blue tie. He had cut his hair short again, and shaved his jawline clean. He smelled like sandalwood. He was staring down the mustached man who now sat lonely on the opposite end, occasionally throwing them a dirty look.

"Lovely, well I was about to leave..." Emma took a last long sip of her drink, then pushed the remainder across the bar away from her and stood. Creed caught her wrist as she turned from him.

Emma paused while Creed stood and fetched his wallet from the inner pocket of his jacket and left money behind on the counter.

"I'll walk you out." He replied and lifted her hand under his arm as he led her to the elevators.

Once the lift doors shut around them, Emma said, "What are you doing here, exactly?"

As a response, Victor leaned forward and pulled the emergency stop button which halted the elevator dead in its tracks. They stared at each other. While he had looked calm and even cold at the bar, now Victor's gaze held animal lust and danger.

"Stop! Stop!" Emma was pushed against the wall of the elevator, the handle bar grinding into her back and Creed pushed against her with his front. His claws slip up her bare thighs and pulled her dress up. He hooked his fingers into her underwear and viciously yanked them down to her knees, they caught briefly then fell down to her ankles.

Emma didn't have time to brace herself, Victor was able to free himself from his pants adeptly and with speed. Before she knew it, he was deeply buried inside her and she was pressed up against the wall, her feet no longer able to touch the ground. Victor looked down into her eyes, letting her mould her body to his cock, relax. They were both breathing deeply.

Her resolve melted as her own hunger mounted. Emma raked her hands through his blond hair upward and grabbed two fists of it tightly near the scalp. She used the anchor to pull his length out of her body, then impaled herself against him.

Victor's claws dug in deeply into the soft tissue of her ass, then moved to pin her hips to the wall. He started to thrust deeper as she released his hair and instead grabbed his tie and tightened it like a noose.

Security was outside the lift, calling to them that everything would be okay and that the fire department was coming.

Creed let out a strangled yell and erupted inside her prematurely. He pulled out softly, unable to look her in the eye. Emma unwrapped her legs from his torso and slid down the wall until her feet found the ground.

She picked up her shoes quietly, ignoring the banging on the lift doors. "I, um, haven't, y'know, for the last four months..." He offered as an excuse.

"Really?" Emma straightened up after putting her heels back on.

Creed opened the emergency hatch in the ceiling and jumped up through it. He lowered his clawed hand to retrieve her then shut the hatch again. Grabbing her by the waist, he jumped over onto the roof of a passing elevator cab heading down, opened the hatch and dropped her in, startling the elderly couple who had been occupying the space alone.

"Lovely pearls." Emma commented to the woman nonchalantly as though dropping in through the roof of an elevator cab was standard. Creed dropped down beside her in time for the lift doors to open on the main level and for them to walk out.

The valet hailed them a cab and waited with an umbrella over their heads as they climbed into the back.

"So you're coming home with me then?" Emma tried to ignore the semen stain on the hem of her favourite dress.

"Yes." He mumbled while looking out the window.

"And you're doing to stop that behaviour we talked about?" She replied as vaguely as possible while the pesky cab driver listened intently.

"We'll talk." He said irritably.

"I don't think there's really much to talk about." Emma turned to him but he still faced the outside. "You were monogamous before, you can be monogamous now." She was referring to the early years of their marriage. It wasn't until after his kidnapping into the Weapon X program that his behaviours had changed and he became increasingly self satisfying and cruel.

Creed gave a threatening growl. "What'chu lookin' at?" He snapped at the cabbie, whose eyes snapped from the rearview mirror and back on the road.


	21. Chapter 21

**Sabretooth and others belong to Marvel, the rest are mine.**

**Comments welcome.**

* * *

When Emma had suggested he spend the week in bed with her apologizing during the drive home from the high-rise bar, Creed called her beautiful and crazy. Now, three days into her idea, he was leaning more towards the latter.

"How much longer are you gonna keep me here?" Creed pulled on the handcuff keeping his left wrist attached to the bedpost on Emma's side of the bed.

"I think we agreed on a week." Emma lay on her stomach near the foot of the bed, gently turned away from him facing his clawed feet in her lacy underwear, legs lazily bouncing against her bottom, her black hair tied up loosely in a claw clip, her little white teeth gently nibbling her slim fingers while she read her book, not looking up at him.

Victor could think of worse situations to be tied up in so he compiled. "Can I have a cigarette?" He nudged her gently with his toe.

"No smoking in the house." She sang and rubbed her lips absently. The gesture was small but it had an effect on him that still remained unmatched by any other piece of ass he'd encountered. "Save for your office of course," Her green eyes finally met his "which you are not in at the moment."

"I need to pee, you think you can..." He grinned and lifted his chained wrist again.

"...catheterize you?" Emma smiled back at him evilly.

"Not what I had in mind, babe."

"Because I can make it happen - I've done it before." She put her book face down on the comforter and crawled up to him, straddling his hips and tugging on his undershirt.

"Don't remind me." The amount of injuries she's had to deal with being married to him nearly required them to have a fully stocked ER in one of the hall closets. Catheters were definitely familiar to him. "If you don't mind, I'd like to piss like a man...standing up and all."

Emma seemed to consider this for a few minutes in silence while toying with a strand of his overgrown mess of blond hair. "I will let you go, when I'm damn well ready to let you go." Victor could feel the bite in her words and knew they were no longer speaking about the situation, but about the relationship.

The bedside drawer slipped silently open and she fished out the cuff's key. It yielded with a soft click and he was able to rub his tender wrist before Emma shifted her weight over and he lifted himself off the bed and padded slowly to the bedroom's washroom.

"Victor?" Emma's voice called quietly behind him. Creed turned in the washroom's doorway to face her. "You belong to me."


End file.
